Begin Again
by court-bambi
Summary: When Sophie Taylor wakes up in hospital, thinking she's 21 with a life full of endless possibilities, she's in for a surprise when she's told she's actually 31, married, with a child and totally settled. Her whole world has been turned upside down, and it's a contract she signed 13 years ago that got her there. What is it about the Grey men and their contracts? Sophie/Teddy story.
1. 21

"They cannot scare me with their empty spaces

Between stars - on stars where no human race is.

I have it in me so much nearer home

To scare myself with my own desert places."

"Desert Places" by Robert Frost

* * *

**Sophie**

The light is too bright. It's giving me a headache. My eyes are only open a crack. Everything is white light for a while. I wait until it clears a little. Why the hell is it so bright? Did I leave my curtains open last night? And what the fuck is that beeping? Who the hell set an alarm?! We're only... What are we doing today? I can't even remember. I groan. And wait until my eyes adjust to the light.

I must still be asleep because all around me is white. White walls, white bed, white tables and chairs… Even the flower bouquets that sit on the window sill are white. White roses, white lilies, white stock... Except a small bouquet of peach-pink carnation flowers. They are lovely despite this morbid lighting.

I'm in a sterile hospital room, the beeping is a heart monitor, and the light reflects off everything. I'm in the bed and my head hurts. I must be dreaming right?

Surely if I was dreaming I wouldn't know I was dreaming. And surely I wouldn't be in this much pain. My whole body aches. Especially my chest, and left leg... And MY HEAD! Maybe this is real then. But why the fuck am I here? Did I get drunk last night? Where's Penelope? Am I in trouble? I do feel like there's a blank void. Please tell me I didn't get drugged.

There's something stuck to my face. I reach up and touch it. A bandage. A big one. Ouch. Great. What the fuck am I supposed to tell my dad? How long have I been here? I bet he's found out I'm in the hospital by now, I bet he's on his way. He's over protective like that. I wonder if Gail will come too.

And I bet Jeff will lecture me. Jeff is my mother's boyfriend. He's such a bitch. I swear he thinks everything I do is "unholy"... Like "You're not going out in _that _are you?" then he'd go on for about half an hour basically calling me a prostitute, and I'm like "it's 88 degrees outside. I_ will_ wear the fucking shorts and vest top." That fucking bitch.

Anyhow, I really hope Penelope is okay. She's my roommate and best friend. I'll have to find her ASAP. Shouldn't I call for a nurse or something? Does this place have one of those button things, like in movies? I strain my neck over to the stands next to my head. The room spins. And my brain is thumping against my skull. I try to ignore it and just get the nurse.

But as I turn I'm met with big, bright blue eyes. I almost jump out of my skin, before I realise they belong to a small child, maybe around the age of six months. The most beautiful baby I've ever seen. The most beautiful anything I've ever seen. She's wearing little blue leggings that cover her feet too, with a blue and white striped t-shirt underneath a cardigan with a picture of a teddy bear holding a kite. She's got smooth creamy skin, and little pink cheeks. And her blonde hair is almost white. Looking at her, I have a sudden urge to cry; she's just so beautiful. But when her little lips form a smile, I can't help but smile back. Who is this sweet creature? It's odd though, she doesn't stare like some babies. It's as if she knows me.

When I finally tear my eyes away from the babe, I register the man who is holding her to his chest. I frown. Christian Grey is relining in a chair beside my bed, clutching onto the baby girl. Okay, maybe I am dreaming. Why the hell would he be sitting at my bedside? That's just weird. Even if I'm a "family friend" or whatever.

He looks much, much younger when he's asleep, he could pass for my age, and not intimidating at all. And his features look a little less angular. He is also more tanned, then the last time I saw him. When was that exactly? Not too long ago. In fact, the more I look at this man, the less he looks like Mr Grey. More like... If he had a brother. He doesn't have a brother does he? I mean, aside from Uncle El. But, this man _must_ be related to Christian. The similarities...

I look back at the baby girl, who is now making grabby hands at me. Those blue eyes... I know them. Teddy has those eyes. Phoebe too. They are Ana's eyes. The little girl now looks like she's about to cry and tries to stretch her chubby arm further. It's so strange.

"Do I know you, cherub?" I whisper. My throat and mouth is so dry.

I almost want to pry the child from her keeper's arms, and hold her to me. But I don't want to wake him. One, because I don't really want to talk to the stranger. Two, because he looks ridiculously handsome asleep. And three because I feel strangely comfortable with them here; if he wakes he might leave. I just lift one heavy arm, and reach out to her. She wraps her dimpled hand around my finger, which seems to satisfy her. But then I notice my skin; it's golden tanned, like it is when I've just come back from holiday.

Just then, the door opens. I look over and see a small elderly lady, with a walking stick. Her grey hair is pulled back into a neat bun. Her warm smile, lights up her hazel eyes. At first, I am certain I am dreaming, because my Nonna Anouk surely wouldn't come down from New York, just because I... Well I don't know what happened. Not unless she was here already here and just didn't tell me... Wait... I look closer.

"Doctor Grey?" I ask in a whisper. Since when does she walk with a stick? And why does she look so tired... And worried? She probably knows who the man and child are.

"Sophie, you haven't called me Doctor Grey in years. I told you, you can call me Grace... Or Grandma," she smiles. "Looks, like he's finally fallen asleep just as you've woken up. He's been so worried, Sophie. He's hardly eaten, or slept. I told him it won't help you or the little one. Doesn't help that the police keep harassing everyone, as if you could answer their questions when you're comatose." She sighs heavily, leans over and presses the nurse call button (that does in fact exist).

"I don't understand," I whisper.

"We'll explain later," she strokes my cheek. A middle aged nurse comes in then.

"Hello Sophie. I'm Nurse Hazel," she says. "How are you feeling?"

"I don't understand," I say.

"Disorientation is normal. How's your head?"

"Killing me," I say.

"Well, let's see if we can help with that."

"I'll tell your father that you're awake," Dr Grey says, before she leaves again.

"Here, small sips now," she gives me a plastic cup of water with a straw.

She then gives me a pill in a little cup. I don't bother asking, I just take them. Soon enough, Dr. Grace comes back in with my dad. He looks horrible. Like he hasn't slept in years. He looks grey and stern. And of course, concerned. But can I really expect anything else from him. Dad is always worrying way too much. Although, I don't expect him to look... Older.

He strides over too me and presses a kiss to my forehead. I grab onto his jacket with my free hand. I suddenly feel very small and safe.

"Papa," I say. "What's happening?"

"You were hurt, but you're okay now"

"Was I drunk?" I frown.

"No," he says. "Some imbecile ran you off the road. You hit a post. And that fell on top of the car. If you weren't in such a sturdy car, I fear you would not be here right now. It was a hit and run."

That's my Papa. Straight talking. As always.

"When?"

"Almost a week ago now. You've been asleep since then. I'm gonna find the bastard. And I'm gonna kill him"

Nurse Hazel clears her throat.

"Sorry Ma'am" Dad says. He's not really sorry.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Nurse Hazel cuts in.

I think about it. My last clear and certain memory is of graduation. After that just glimpses, images, people. Nothing much else... Like looking through a peep hole. And any noise is like being underwater. There's one particular face that keeps popping up.

"Penelope," I say, we must have been spending quite a lot of time together... Which makes sense because we were moving apartments? Yes! We were moving together! Dad is frowning slightly and Nurse Hazel looks confused.

"My roommate," I add. I quickly look over to the little cherub and see she's falling asleep. I gently shake my finger free.

"Baby," Dad says. "You haven't lived with Penelope since you were about 23"

23? No. I'm 21. I'm definitely 21 and I graduated college recently, and I'm moving with Penelope. I'm a little upset that Dad doesn't know what's happening in my life, even though I told him... I did tell him, right?

"I'm 21," I say. I become increasingly sure of it by the minute.

My dad looked at Nurse Hazel. Nurse Hazel looks at my dad. I watched as something silently passes between them. They know something I don't.

"Oh my God! Is Penelope okay?"

"She's fine," Dad says.

Then what the hell is the matter? Was there someone else in the car? Is my car completely wrecked? Where's mom? Off with Jeff? She probably with shiny new daughter, Harriet (aka Miss I'll-pretend-to-be-the-prefect-preppy-little-daughter-but-behind- their-backs-I'm-a-fucking-hoe). That fucking bitch. Maybe they're shopping together. Getting their nails done maybe. Perhaps braiding each other's hair. And all this anger is making me tired.

"You should rest," Dad says. I swear he's telepathic or something.

"Okay," I shut my eyes. "Ti amo, Papa"

I vaguely hear him singing quietly to me, before I fall asleep.


	2. A Country Far Away as Health

**Phoebe**

Dad and I decided to go to the hospital and see how Sophie is doing. Dad has made me responsible for updating Seth, who has been calling all week. But we made sure he stayed where he was; Sophie wouldn't like it if he cut his trip short. Ted insisted that we all try to go on as normal... Except him, of course. He's hardly slept at all for the past week, and has been living off coffee and sandwiches. He doesn't even like coffee. His turmoil is evident on his face as we find him and Grandma Grace sitting in the corridor outside Sophie's room.

"Hey," Dad says. "What are you doing out here?"

"We were forced out; they're changing..." Ted frowns. "Something... I don't remember. I was half asleep".

He yawns. I take a seat beside him and pluck little Anouk from his arms; he looks as if he's about to collapse. The baby girl looks at me with wide blue eyes. She's a very clever baby. She's only four months... But she knows something's not right. I can see it in her eyes that she's confused. I would be too.

"Ted, go home. Go to sleep. Eat. And for god's sake take a shower," Dad says, in his business voice. It's usually best to do as you're told when he uses his business voice. Then in a softer tone: "She'll be fine, Ted".

"Dad's right, Ted. You look shit," I tell him.

"Language, Phoebe".

"Sorry Dad".

But it's true. He has bags under his eyes. His tanned skin has turned a strange grey-ish yellow. His normal stubble is now a full beard. Creased shirt. Greasy hair. Smells like a tramp.

"I don't want you driving. Cooper is downstairs, he'll drive you," Dad says, protective as ever. Although, I wouldn't have him driving either. "Mum, could you go with him?"

"Of course," she says.

"Do you want me to watch Anouk?" I know the answer, but I had to ask anyway. He hasn't let his daughter out of his sight since the accident - even preferring to hold her rather than putting her in her carrier seat.

He shakes his head, dumps his stuff the carrier seat and takes Anouk from me.

"See you later," we say as he trudges to the elevator, hunched over like a great big troll. Grandma follows him.

"I hate seeing him like this," Dad mutters.

"I've _never _seen him like this".

Just then the door of Sophie's room opens and Uncle Taylor comes out.

"He went home for a while," Dad says.

"Good," Uncle T nods.

He sits down beside us. Uncle T's face lacks any emotion... Or rather the expression is wiped clear - something Sophie can do too. But they can't keep it from their eyes. And Uncle Taylor's eyes are full of sorrow. Something is seriously wrong. What's happening to Sophie? What's happening to my sister?

"What's this about?" Dad asks.

My heart is pounding in my chest. She's not going to die. She won't. Not my strong, stubborn big sister. Not now when she's come so far. She's a fighter. She is not going to die.

"Sophie woke up this morning," he says. I feel my body considerably relax. "She was disorientated and very confused. She said some things that didn't make sense. When she went back to sleep the doctor said that it's normal, and everything would probably be okay when she woke up again. But it's still the same as before. The doctor is talking to her now and it seems that she has no recollection of..." He stops there seemingly struggling to get the words out.

"Of the accident?" I try.

"Of the past ten years of her life," he corrects.

I must have heard wrong. Ten days? Ten weeks?

"Ten years?" Dad repeats.

"Ten years," Uncle T confirms. "She thinks she's 21."

"21?" I repeat.

"21"

There's a long, heavy pause.

"Doc says" he continues, "it's possible that Sophie's memories will return after the swelling in her head is gone. But there's also a chance they'll be gone for longer."

There is another pause.

"There is also a chance they might never come back."

My thoughts are swimming around in my head so fast I can't seem to catch one. Ten long years of Sophie's life.

"Ten years", Dad mutters to himself.

"She might remember. But for now, to her there's no Jack Hyde, no sessions with Dr. Flynn, no job. And there's no Ted and Anouk... Well there's a Ted, but she thinks he is a 13 year old boy, who's just a family friend."

Ten long years in the life of Sophie Taylor-Grey. A lot happened in those years. A lot to forget.

Dad runs both his hands through his hair and sighs heavily.

"How do I tell my daughter, she's not 21 and just starting out in life, but 31, settled in her career, married and has a daughter of her own?"

How do I tell my brother that the love of his life, the girl he's been chasing for years, the girl that he finally got, his wife, doesn't remember him or their baby?

We sit in silence for a while. My mind is blank. But soon I see Dr. Flynn shuffling down the corridor.

"Devised a plan yet?" Flynn asks. There's no response. "Just moping then?"

"Got any suggestions?" Dad asks.

"Go slow," Flynn says. "You and Phoebe should tell Ted. Keep it simple. Taylor and I will tell Sophie. We should give her short bursts of information. Try to not overwhelm her. We'll tell her the main stuff first. Her age, basic daily routine. Then about Ted and Anouk. Not telling her she's married with a kid will only upset her more when she does find out. Then the rest is up to Sophie."

"Up to Sophie?" I ask.

"We can't rush her. She has to take it all in in her own time. She'll meet everyone when she's up to it."

"Okay," Uncle T says. "We're going to have to talk to her now, I'm sure she's freaking out in there."

"I guess we've got to go talk to Ted then," Dad says to me.

We all stand. Nothing more needs to be said. Dad and Uncle T will keep each other updated, as they always have done.

When we get to their apartment, Grandma Grace is sitting at the dining table drinking tea, and Aunt Gail is preparing sandwiches in the kitchen. Ted must be asleep in the bedroom with Anouk. Aunt Gail says he hasn't eaten anything but he has showered.

The apartment is bright and open and clean. But it's always seemed a little _too_ clean to me. Perhaps a little vacant. More like a hotel room than a home. It's only a one bedroom apartment. They stayed here because Sophie loved the area. I think they were supposed to be moving to a bigger place. That'll have to be put on hold.

Sophie's mural is on the most colourful thing. It's been the same for two years now. It's a forest. With a little dirt road disappearing into the distance. It's filled with different types of vibrant green plants, along with flowers and animals. It even has animals that couldn't possibly live in the forest. There's lambs and a horse, beside lions and wolves. There's roses and violets and of course carnations... Lots of them. Nobody really understands the painting except Sophie and Ted. Which is sweet... But I guess she won't really get it now.

And then it really hits me: that one of my best friends has lost a great big piece of herself. She doesn't remember all the wonderful things she's done, and the things that she's learnt. Nor does she remember our family jokes, the time we spent together. And she doesn't remember her husband. She doesn't remember her daughter.

I try, and fail, to suppress a sob. It just escalates from there. And now I've set Aunt Gail off too. Better get it all out now, instead in front of Ted. Dad come over to give me a hug. But it just seems like such a tragedy, but different from the kind that come in books. Dad continues to pat my hair as I cry into his shirt.

"Come on," he says softly, kissing my hair, and wiping away the rest of my tears. "Ted will be up soon".

* * *

"What do you mean?" Ted asks, once he calms a little from his freak out. Asking him to "please sit down" in a serious tone, when he knows we've just come from the hospital where his wife is, probably wasn't the best idea. His face is worryingly pale now, and his crack up has caused Anouk to start crying. He holds her close to his chest, shushing her and rubbing her back. She quietens quickly.

Dad repeats what he just said. Then he goes on to explain himself. He relays what Uncle Taylor said to us - almost repeating word-for-word. I can't take my eyes off of Ted's face. At first he remains passive. But as we wait for him to say something, his expression slowly changes from neutral to sad to confused to angry then back to sad. It stays at sad for a while, but by the time he speaks he's passive again.

"Okay," he says, so quietly I have to strain to hear him. "I need to see her. I have to... Do something."

He stands and hurries round the corner, to the bedroom. I quickly follow him.

"But Ted," I say. "Flynn says we can only see her when she's ready."

He's set Anouk down on the bed and is packing her baby things into a pastel grey bag.

"Then I'll stand outside and talk to her through the door"

"You know what I meant, Ted".

"Fine then, we'll wait there until she says she's ready to see us."

"That might be a while-"

"Doesn't matter".

"What are you going to say?"

"I'm going to get her to remember us".

"How?"

"I don't know. The doctor said it might all come back to her, right? Maybe I can do some prompting".

There's no convincing him. He's too bull-headed. He has both dad and mum's stubbornness put together. Sophie was the only person ever to be able to change his mind. Maybe because she's stubborn too.

I go back out into the open living and dining room. I sit beside Dad, who's still at the table.

"What do we do now?" I ask.

"I don't know," he says. Dad looks hopeless. He really doesn't like it when he's stuck not doing anything. His money can't get Sophie's memories back. Nor can his network of people. There's really not much anyone can do. "We're making too big of a deal out of this," Dad says suddenly. "Her memories will probably come back when the swelling goes down, remember?"

"What if they don't ever come back?" I ask him quietly. "What if Ted can't bring them back?"

"I can and I will." We both turn to see Ted, ready to leave for the hospital. He has the baby bag slung across him, and little Anouk in her carrier.

"See you later," he snaps before marching out the door. It's almost comical; he looks like he just had a tantrum and now he's storming off.

Dad calls Uncle Taylor, and tells him Ted's on the way. I didn't even get to give Anouk a kiss goodbye.

"I need a drink," Dad groans, when he gets off the phone. "Let's go get Mom and Iz, we'll go out for dinner".


	3. Hey, Little Train

**Sophie**

At some point during one of my many naps, my room had been filled with bouquets of carnation flowers. And I really do stress the word 'filled'. There are pinks and reds and whites, yellows and green, purple and striped ones too. They are in clear vases and watering cans and ceramic pots, and they're on tables and chairs and all along the window sill and even on the floor. They look soft and delicate, and fluffy… Just as I like them. It's like someone had brought a garden to me, I half expected butterflies and fairies to start dancing around my head. It is beautiful, and really quite touching. _Someone_ knows what my favourite flowers are.

_Married_, dad had said. _Baby_, he said.

I feel like a machine and something's wrong with my system.

Married, baby. It does not compute. Husband? Child?

I didn't want marriage. I didn't want children. Not since I was about twelve or thirteen. Mom made sure of that. Now _that_ I remember. It was around the time when my mother stopped being a mother to me. She came home late one night, I was in bed and she said: "Little girl, if you learn one thing from me make sure it is: to never trust a man, and never have children. It'll ruin you. Best to get a job and stay single".

I could smell the alcohol on her breath. She really didn't need to tell me that, though. I never wanted to be a mother to someone, the way my mother was to me.

But now... Married. Baby.

It just doesn't make any sense. 31. Married. Baby.

Apparently, husband and child have been waiting outside the door for the most of two days. And for a week before that, they were in the chair beside me - they are the pair who were here, when I woke up. And knowing this, I feel like a complete bitch, for making them wait. But I just wasn't ready to see them.

As if I wouldn't be confused enough: who have I married? Who other than Theodore Raymond Grey? Teddy, who I remember as a thirteen year old boy with an obsession with trains, and often tells me that we could be the next Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt, or Jay-Z and Beyoncé (even though _nobody_ could be Jay-Z and Beyoncé; those two are epic). I am alarmed that I have married someone who is eight years younger than me, and right now I feel like a bit of a paedophile, even though I know he is now 22 - about to turn 23 - and totally legal.

He was always as persistent as the seagulls in _Finding Nemo_ \- just not as annoying. He has been asking me to be his girlfriend since... Well, since he learnt what a girlfriend is. Just a little childish crush. But he couldn't have possibly married me over a crush. So there must be more to it. He can't possibly be in love with me, and I wouldn't want that, even if it were possible.

I've spent the past two days alone in this room. A couple times I have turned the situation over in my head, but coming up with no hypothesis or conclusion. Nothing comes back to me either. Then after, I don't want to think about it at all.

But Dad says that I should meet them as soon as I can. He's right; I can't put off seeing them forever. Especially the baby, and to be honest a part of me is longing to see her again. I can't forget the way her large blue eyes looked when she was about to cry. I guess I am, like most people, attracted to beautiful, tormented things.

Due to me wanting alone time to think, I haven't had many visitors. Dad came to see me yesterday evening, and Gail comes in regularly with a breast pump, which I don't want to think about too much. But other than that I haven't seen anyone… Except security. Landen Cooper is the giant who has been sitting just outside the door, who reminds me of John Coffey in _The Green Mile. _According to my step-mother he's been protecting me for about seven years now, but she wouldn't tell me why. He's rather scary but Gail said that we have a similar relationship as Mr Grey and my father.

"Cooper," I call. Within two seconds he's by my side.

"Yes Miss Sophie?"

"Where is Teddy?"

"He left to take care of some of Anouk's needs. I believe he's on his way back here."

"Okay. Could you send him in when he gets here? …I'd like to speak to him."

"Yes ma'am. Will that be all?"

"Yes, thank you, Cooper."

With that he leaves the room. I think I catch him smiling.

* * *

_Say something, Sophie, _a voice in my head tells me, after five minutes of just staring at him._ Anything, you idiot, just say something._

Urgh, what is that?

_I'm your subconscious, stupid, _she says. _Now say something._

"Sooo," I mutter, "you're all grown up."

_Not that! You're hinting at the age gap, you fool._

"I mean… of course you have," I babble on, as I feel my face heating. "Time does that… I just mean… You're very beautiful".

_Oh great!_

"Thanks," he mutters, and I see he still has the same tendency to blush heavily – he gets that from his mother.

Dad only told me the very basics: the date; my age; that I am married; have a kid; their names; and settled in my career. Settled in my life. That's all. I'm supposed to take it slowly. Then I was told to go see that Doctor John Flynn guy, who I met the other day: some therapist that apparently I've been seeing for years; Lord knows what for. I don't want to think about it too much. But all this small talk is frustrating me.

_Don't skirt the elephant! Just climb on its back and ride it through the streets of Seattle… like a don._

"Can I hold her?" I ask, gesturing to the baby.

"Of course," he says, and passes her over to me. My arms are weak so I settle her on my lap to support her weight.

"How old is she?"

"Four months, next week"

"Only? She's so big."

"She's a sturdy baby," he says with a smile.

I look at the little beauty for a while, I stroke her feathery white hair, and her soft fat cheek. She gurgles and wiggles around a little. She doesn't seem like a difficult child at all. I think I'm already quite taken with her.

"Tell me more, about her," I say, unable to look away from her powder blue eyes.

"She's…" he starts, but seems lost for words. "Her birthday is 26th December. She was early, she was due late January. She came out at 9lbs, with a full head of hair and perfectly healthy. She's amazing, Sophie. You're amazing with her."

There it is, the reminder that she's mine. That I look after the child constantly. That I'm married to this man. That this is our child.

"How did we get together?" I ask, trying to sound casual.

"You know that summer when you were eighteen, and you went to visit your mother for a week, but was held up there for a month?" I nod. "Remember that contract I made you sign?"

"Remind me."

"I was a little pissed that I didn't get to see you for a whole month. So I ask you out on a date. I said we could be the next Johnny Depp and Amber Heard." I had to laugh at that. "You said no, of course, but you said 'ask me again when you're 21', just to humour me. You didn't mean it. But I wrote up a contract saying that when I turned 21, you'd consider dating me."

"Oh, _that _contract," I mutter. He smiles. I remember humouring him with it, I dutifully signed the contract thinking that he'd probably lose it, or lose interest in it, but most likely that he'd have some other girl by then. Someone his own age, and could do stuff with him that normal 21 years olds do. Someone good for him.

"When I turned 21, I asked you to go out with me and…"

"And I said yes?"

"Well, actually you said no. So I spend the day harassing you, I sent champagne and chocolates, and teddy bears and balloons, and lots of flowers to your office."

"That made me say yes?"

"No. You were still telling me to go away and stop embarrassing you," he laughed.

"Then what made me says yes?"

"When you came out of GEH, I embarrassed you on the street, until you said that you'd go out with me if I shut up."

"Why was I at Grey Enterprise Holdings?"

He pauses.

"You work there."

"I work at Grey House?! Not at Techo?"

"You did, for about two years. I can't remember why you left exactly, but your dad pulled you out. And my dad had been watching your work for a while before, so he offered you an opportunity you couldn't refuse. You basically walked out of Techo and fell straight into GEH. Good thing too, that Techo company went bankrupt shortly after you left… And yes, I do strongly believe in a correlation, there."

He grins at me.

_Cute, _my subconscious says.

"I was looking forward to that job. It was a new and exciting business."

"You really like your job now. You're chief financial officer now. I mean, I don't know anybody who loves numbers as much as you do… It's kind of nerdy really."

"But you're father… He's so scary".

He laughs at this. "You two are actually quite good friends now. Just don't ask me how that happened; I don't know."

That's hard to take in. I've been a little intimidated by Teddy's stern father as far back as I can remember. How is Dad's austere boss now also my boss too… and _'quite good friend'_? What in god's name would we possibly talk about? …Unless he enjoys being told about how scary he is. I don't want to think about it too much.

I play with the baby a bit, wiggling her arms and legs.

"Anouk," I test the name out. It sounds strange, and feels uncomfortable on my tongue. It's too personal… too real. "After Nonna – Why after my grandmother?"

"You were very upset when she died," he says, so gently that I almost lose the words in the sound of his voice.

She died? She's gone.

"I guess time does that as well," I mutter, feeling my heart sink in my chest.

"You can go and visit her grave," he says. "Anytime you want. Just tell me… Or someone else. We'll take you."

"Thank you," I say, but it comes out in a whisper.

_You know what he's doing, _my subconscious says. _He's not making any vast claims about the relationship. He's just giving the basic details. He isn't making any grand declarations of love, or begging you to try you're best to remember. That will come later. He's either very smart in his tactics. Or he's just very sweet._

No one is that sweet, I think.

_But if he is… How the hell did _you _end up with a person like _him?

I don't know. I don't want to think about it.

* * *

**A/N: I hope that this chapter gave a little more information about Teddy and Sophie's relationship, as I know a few readers were a bit confused. But just for extra clarity: When Sophie woke up, due to her head injury, she **_**thought**_** she was 21 (and Teddy was 13). They were not in a relationship at that time. However, she is **_**actually **_**31 and Teddy is 23 (yes, they are married with an 8 year age gap). They got together during the 10 years that she doesn't remember. The fact that he is quite a bit younger than her, and that she didn't want marriage/babies has Sophie very confused.**

**Oh also, as you can see Sophie has a Subconscious voice, but I assure you it is very different to Ana's. And I don't mean to imply that Ana is mad. Or that Sophie is... Okay, maybe Sophie is an incy wincy little bit. (DW, all will be explained).**

**Anyway, I hoped this helped :)**

**Thanks for reading and I appreciate all your comments/ feedback (as it encourages me to improve).**

**Love from Courts xx**

**PS. the next chapter continues on from this scene...**


	4. Someone Will Hand You a Shovel

**Sophie**

"Is my mother here?" I ask, changing the subject. I haven't seen her, or even heard anything _from_ her or _about_ her.

"You don't really talk to your mother anymore," his voice is in the same gentle tone as before.

_That_I am not surprised about. After _the incident_ with Edward, one of her ex-boyfriends, when I was thirteen, our relationship became so strained, I couldn't stand living with her. One day I got upset and opened up to Gail about it (of course leaving out what happened with him), I told her about what it was like living with her; things she would do, how she would act. So then Gail told my dad, and he told his lawyer, and he told a judge, who told me I could stay with my dad permanently.

Then my mother moved back to New York; where my parents grew up before they eloped and moved to Seattle. I visited her often. She seemed to have a new boyfriend every time I saw her. Then eventually she met Jeff. And suddenly she was all gung-ho for Jesus, and Church and stuff. They had a perfect little family; Jeff, mom and his daughter, Harriet. All except Harriet was really a slut, mom was cheating on Jeff, and yet they judged me on every little thing I did. I was, all of a sudden, so ungodly that half the time they couldn't even stand to look at me. Yet my mother's previous behaviour was all forgiven, because she '_found Jesus in her heart_'. And I was advised to do the same. That pretty much leads up to now... I mean, when I was 21.

"What happened?" I ask. "I remember up to Jeff. Who she with now? Do you know?"

"She's still with Jeff. He found out that she was cheating and they broke it off. And I believe she messed around with some other guy. But you spoke to Jeff, and convinced him to give her another chance. Which he did. And they married, and are still together to this day. But they still gang up on you, more now than ever."

I have to pause for a moment, to make sure I'm hearing the right thing.

"Why," I finally enquire, "in seven hells, would I convince a man I hate, to get back into a relationship with my mother?"

"Because she was unhappy. And he made her happy."

My subconscious slyly takes out a pad and pen, and notes he didn't seem to find the _Game of Thrones_ reference weird.

Not now, Subconscious, not now.

"I haven't cared much about my mother's love life since what happened with Edward".

"Who is Edward?"

"He was one… wait, you don't know?"

Surely, I would have told him about Edward. . . Teddy's supposed to be married to me. I mean, I didn't talk about it before because I was thirteen, awkward and nervous. But l always thought that I'd tell someone _someday_. Aren't you supposed to tell your partner everything? I can't help but wonder: what else wasn't being said in the relationship?

It's too much to take in. I rub my hand across my forehead, before I remember that I have a wound there. A hiss escapes through my teeth. Teddy sat forward in his seat immediately.

"Are you okay?''

"I just forgot I had this thing," l gesture to my face. Yesterday, Nurse Hazel came in to take off the bandage on my face. She said it was a second degree burn and will leave a scar. Teddy looks at it for a moment, I see him swallow and presses his lips together.

"Is it that bad?" I ask.

"You've not looked?" He eyes the hand mirror that the nurse left yesterday, face down on my side table. I simply shake my head. "Why not?"

I just shrug, but ask: "Would you do it with me?"

He blinks at me, then nods. I try to scoot along on my bed. I can't move properly yet; though my memory got the worst of the accident, my left side received a few broken ribs, a sprained wrist and deep wounds in my leg were I got stabbed several times by shards of glass. But my right side, in comparison to my left, feels like it's go on a month long holiday to Barbados.

Getting up from his chair, he comes to perch on the edge of my cot.

"Are you comfortable on this thing?" he asks, wrinkling his nose.

"I'm okay, rich kid."

"Hey, you're a rich kid too."

"Only because your dad made my dad rich," I say with a smile. I like this, this feels… normal.

"Yeah, yeah."

With him sitting beside me I see exactly how tall his is. For what I know of I'm 5ft 5". He's must be around 6ft 3". He looks down at me. And for a few seconds – just a few – something inside me shakes. I don't really know what it was, but it wasn't a memory. Nor was it anything _new._It's like something had been sleeping and it stirred just then. Something had flashed in his eyes, so quickly I'm not sure it was really there. Or maybe it is still there but I just can't see it any more. But I _did_ see something. I hated it. I liked it. It terrifies me.

_You used to want to be looked at like that,_my subconscious scrapes in. She's still here. Seriously, what medication are they giving me? Maybe I should tell someone. I quickly look away from his eyes.

"Ready?" he asks.

"Yeah," I say.

He picks up the hand mirror and holds it out at arm's length. At first all I look at is him, and once again I am struck by how handsome he is. Then I look to the girl beside him. She looks very young and could pass as a college student. Her eyes are a dull, green and orange flecked, hazel. I had expected to see her with pale skin, and dull blonde hair. But instead her skin is the colour of butterscotch and her long hair falls in pale blonde – almost white – waves around her face. An angry red burn mark stretches across the left side of her face, from her cheekbone to her forehead, just missing the corner of her eye. It's not too large. But some of her hair is missing as well.

I carefully reach up and part my hair on the right side, it covers the burnt-off hair relatively well.

"The doctor said it should grow back," he reassures me. Yes, Nurse Hazel said that yesterday, because the skin isn't actually harmed too much, in that area.

The girl looks like the girl that looks like me; I've never felt like I fit into my face. In my head I look different to how I look in really life. But in my head I don't have a particular look. It's strange. The girl in the mirror is okay looking – yet still, too pretty to be me. But she _is_ me. Whenever I think about it I just end up confusing myself.

"I don't look old," I say.

"You're not old," he says.

"I'm 31"

"That's not old"

"Wait until _you_ get to 31, you'll be saying you're old too"

"Well, cashiers still ask you for ID when buying alcohol; I guess it's a compliment," he laughs.

"I must get it from my father."

"You get everything from your father," he says.

"Almost everything," I correct. "So, what's with the whole Daenerys Stormborn look?"

He laughs at this… And keeps laughing.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh," he says, when he can get the words out. "It's a family joke. Whenever you go on holiday, somewhere hot, you come back with such light hair, almost white. Brandon called you Daenerys as a joke one time, and it kind of stuck."

Brandon… Kate and Elliott's oldest son. I wonder what he looks like now.

"Anouk's middle name is Dany," Teddy continues. Anouk Dany Grey. Hm.

"But really though how did I get like this?" I ask.

He clears his throat a little before answering me.

"We spent a little over a month abroad for our honeymoon," he says.

Oh. Over a month? Really? That's a long time.

"Where?" I ask.

"Two weeks in Sigiriya, Sri Lanka. Then another two weeks in Khao Lak in Thailand. And then the last two weeks in the Philippines, we went to the 100 Islands and Palawan."

"Sounds fun," I says. For some reason, I don't want to think about the fact that these were all places that I know I wanted to visit.

"It was," he says simply.

I glance at my left hand.

Oh god, I think, we're really married aren't we?

_Yes, yes you are._

Two rings sit snugly on my finger. They are both simple, yet beautiful. The first is silver wavy band holding leaf shaped diamonds, like a tiny flower stem wrapped around my finger. The second is a silver band with a texture like tree bark. It's wonderfully unique. I hadn't noticed them until dad and Dr. Flynn told me about the accident. It freaked me out, but for some reason I couldn't bring myself to take them off. So instead I choose to not think about them at all.

Teddy must have seen me looking at the rings on my left hand. He goes to sit back in his chair. I glance at his left hand. He has the same tree bark band, his is just a little thicker.

"The engagement ring was my great-grandma Addie's ring. My great-grandfather Theodore, who I'm named after, gave it to her as an engagement ring," he explains.

"It's beautiful," is all I can say. He's reaching into risky territory now.

"Grandma Grace and Grandpa Carrick gave it to me, when they found out we were pregnant."

I think he's just muttering to himself now.

_Did you even hear what he just said?_

The words sink into my head… _slowly._

Wait…

"How long have we been married?" I ask.

"6 months now."

6 months?! The baby is 4 months, and I had her for 8 months before that. I was pregnant before we married. My head spins with this information. That might explain the marriage. We were only together for one year before we got pregnant. Did we marry _because_I was pregnant?! Oh my god. This isn't happening right now.

_Yes it is._

Shut up, Subconscious.

I didn't want to get married or have a child. But even if I did, it wasn't supposed to be _this_ way. The only reason my father married my mother was because she was pregnant with me. I don't even think they were really in love. It was such a mess. And from a young age I vowed to myself that I'd never marry _just_because I was pregnant.

Anouk starts gurgling loudly on my lap. I try to bounce her a little. But soon she starts crying. I try to sooth her but I can't. Her crying is too loud. So are my thoughts. And it's all too much.

"Please just take her," I say, swiftly pushing the baby into Teddy's arms. I lean back into the pillow under my head. I try to count my breathing to calm myself. Teddy manages to calm the child quickly.

After a minute or two I can finally gather enough sense to speak again.

"Thanks for coming to talk to me," I say.

_He's your husband, why would he not come to talk to you?_

Seriously, subconscious voice go away.

"It's okay," he says.

"Can we stop for today?" I ask. "Maybe we can talk again tomorrow or something?"

"Of course. I'll be around anyway, so just ask Cooper to get me whenever you're ready."

"Thanks," I nod.

"See you soon then." He stands, looks at me for a few seconds as if he wants to say more, but decides not to and swiftly leaves with the baby.

We'll talk again very soon I'm sure. I just don't think I can take in any more information right now. It's just all too much. It's like everything I ever told myself or stood for has been thrown out the window. Nothing makes any sense. It's like I've become a different person completely. My headache is coming back just thinking about it. I don't want to think about it too much.

I don't want to think about anything at all.


	5. The Song in Your Heart

**Penelope**

Two weeks ago Phoebe called me and explained that Sophie had woken up, but has amnesia. I think the phrases "retrograde amnesia" and "post-traumatic" and "cerebral cortex" were mentioned; I don't even know what those mean. My only issue was that I hadn't been allowed to see her yet. Sophie and I have been best of friends since we met in college. We were both doing a degree in finance, at the Roosevelt University, Chicago. We spent a lot of time together, and always had each other's backs. I grew up in Houston, Texas but Seattle was amongst the many cities I had always wanted to visit, so Sophie took me. I loved it, and stayed.

Ted called me this morning and said that Sophie had asked for me. I am so fucking psyched. From the bank I go straight to the hospital and head up to Sophie's room. I find her propped up in bed. She's much thinner than before, making her soft features appear harsher. Surrounding her hazel eyes are dark bruise-like circles. The pink scar on her face is partially covered by her long waves. Her golden tan looks a little greenish. There's a little crinkle between her eyebrows as she reads sheets of printed paper from a thick brown manila folder, which sits in front of her.

"You look like shit, Taylor," I say.

She looks up at me and says nothing for a few seconds, but her eyes scan my face. Suddenly, realisation fills her eyes and they go wide and watery like a helpless child's.

"Pen?" she breathes

I just give her a warm smile. She lifts herself up, but I hurry over to her before she hurts herself. She desperately wraps her arms around me. I didn't realise how much I had been worrying over the past three weeks, until l was flooded with relief.

"Are you still in any pain?" l ask, as gently push her back down in bed.

"No," she says. "I'm okay. I still get the occasional head ache, but I have painkillers".

"You've been here for a while now," I say, perching on the edge of her cot.

"Yes. The doctors wanted to keep me longer because I'm always so sleepy, and apparently that is worrying. But everyone else thinks it's just because I'm stressed. The doctors mentioned a rehabilitation centre, and everyone said it would only stress me out more. In fact, they were really adamant that I don't go to rehab, for some reason."

"I see," I say.

"They did say I could go home soon though," she continues. "Teddy asked me to go with him and the baby. But I don't think I'd end up doing much for them, I could look after the baby, but only in a baby-sitter sort of way. But then if I don't go home with him I would only be avoiding the whole situation and would be putting it off, and it would just take a lot longer to sort itself out. Then again it might stress me out more and pressure me into making quick decisions. Then I'll just regret-

"Woah there!" I interrupted. "Slow down."

"You okay?" she asks.

Ha! She's asking if _I'm _okay!? She's the one who's acting strange.

"Yeah," I say. "Just a little shocked is all; you're saying a lot in such a short space of time."

"Sorry, it just feels like I haven't spoken to anyone about how I feel, in ages. I mean I talked to Dr. Flynn about it but it's not the same. And I can't talk to Teddy about it, because I might end up saying something I will regret. And I don't really want talk to my dad or Gail about it. I think that's why I waited so long to see you… because you're my best friend and I've always felt like I can tell you anything. So I am scared of what you might tell me"

"Oh. You thought we might gossip about your former self?"

"Essentially," she laughs.

"Well, I'm afraid if you want that you might be better off at your therapist. I haven't heard you talk so openly about your feelings, in years. Whenever we spoke about anything important like this it was strained and awkward for you to get the words out, and I never really got an entirely clear idea of how you actually felt. Don't get me wrong, we're still best of friends, and some things were rather obvious, but there were a lot of things with you that you'd talk about, but not _really_talk about. A lot of things weren't said".

"Somehow I'm not surprised. I have been talking to Teddy, over these past two weeks, about some details of the last 10 years of my life. But there are some questions, he can't answer – because he doesn't know." She looks truly bothered by this, and I can understand why. But I also know how much Ted loves her – he doesn't need to know every single detail of her past, he loves her for who she is _now_. "There's actually a particular question I wanted to ask you. It came up in conversation with Teddy, it was pretty clear he didn't know about it - and I can come up with a few theories why. But you're my best friend, and I can tell you anything, so I don't see why I couldn't have told you... Did I ever tell you who Edward was?"

I think back to any major stories. Nothing comes to mind.

"Ten years is a long time; if there was a major Edward story, I either don't remember it or you didn't tell me."

"I didn't tell you then," she decides. "You would definitely remember that story, if I had. It's why my mother strayed so far from me."

Sophie had only ever said that her mother became reckless and they drifted apart. If there was something more to it she obviously had some rationale for not telling. Whatever reason it was then, is apparently overlooked now, as she proceeds to tell me the story:

"Edward was one of my mother's boyfriends. When I was 13 my mother dragged me out shopping one day, and he just came right up to us and started flirting with her. Then he started saying how beautiful I was – I remember thinking that it must have been a tactic to make me like him or something. He and mom started dating, and things got pretty serious. He moved in eventually. And he actually seemed like an decent guy - a little young, perhaps, but nice enough. I got along with him just fine. One evening mom went out to dinner with some girlfriends, leaving me alone with him. We watched some TV, but eventually I got tired and went to my room. Just as I was drifting to sleep, he came into my room. At first I thought he was just checking up on me, but then I realised he was only in his boxers. He made a move on me, he was talking, and I thought he was saying my mother's name: Olivia. I managed to keep him off me for I don't know how long. My mom came home, and heard me screaming. She threw him out on the street in his boxers.

"Afterwards, when I could think straight again, I realised he hadn't been calling me 'Olivia', but he was calling me 'Lucy, my love, Lucy'. I still don't know who Lucy is. Looking back, it seems I had overlooked some things - things he'd say or do that didn't see quite… right. I don't know what happened to him. I don't even know his last name. Mom made me swear not to tell anyone, or even _mention_ him ever again. I didn't – I wanted to but I felt… embarrassed, by the whole thing. But my mother must have really liked him, because she never looked at me quite the same after that. Then she became reckless - she has always been erratic and carefree, but not like this. She was drinking and bringing home strange men, and she had a number of consecutive boyfriends. She wasn't the mother I knew. I wasn't the same either. I was a little more reserved, and a little less naïve. But other than that I carried on as normal. Then when I was about 15, Mom wanted to move back to New York, and I had had enough. I opened up to Gail about my mother's behaviour, but still not able to tell about Edward. There was a small dispute, but it was pretty clear my mother wasn't fit to take care of me. So, I got to stay with dad."

She's never told me any of this. Not even hinted at it. She is very good at hiding things; I would never have guessed that was the reason for her strained relationship with her mom. And she's very good at lying; I genuinely believed her when she said she and her mother simply drifted apart. It disturbs me that she doesn't seem _too _bothered by the event.

"Mom met Jeff when I was 17 and turned her life around – but she still wasn't _my mom. _She was so judging and hypocritical. She, Jeff and Harriet acted like they were all so perfect but there was so much that was wrong with them. Harriet was a two-faced lying bitch. Mom was still sleeping around, and denying it. And Jeff … URGH! One time I went to visit her in New York when I was 18 – I think I had asked her why she didn't visit me in Seattle, at least one time, and she said she didn't have the money. Which didn't make sense because she was well off. She said she's been helping Jeff with a Catholic community centre he runs. And with my dad's help over the phone, I spent a month tracking were exactly the money had gone. Turns out most of it was still sitting in Jeff's personal account, not moving anywhere. I told her and she said, it didn't matter because it's not moving. So I suggested the ways she could invest it, or put it into savings. We argued a lot, and in the end, she said that the money was none of my business, but only had to do with her, Jeff… and Harriet. I felt like she was telling me that I was no longer her daughter. So I gave up and came back to Seattle.

"That was when Teddy was 10 and wrote that silly contract. I had babysat enough of the Grey children to know to humour them with their games. So I signed the damned contract that said I'd consider dating him when he turned 21." She lets out a small laugh.

That's how I know the Grey's – back then, they paid her a little wage to watch their kids when they were very busy. So every so often they'd be around our apartment…. Sometimes even when she wasn't being paid, they'd come around and just hang out; they were her friends. And Sophie _loved_ spending time with them.

"Despite the month in New York being very stressful with my mother, I actually enjoyed the finance aspect of it; I was _good _at it. So I took a finance degree and focused on my work. Surprisingly, I even got over how the Edward situation made me feel. I guess it makes sense now, why my mind might have taken itself back to when I was 21. It was a fresh start: I finished with my education, I was about to begin a new job, I was moving with my best friend. It was exciting and surprisingly well managed." She pauses for a moment, evidently pondering something. I wonder what she's thinking about. "Can you confirm what I know about after that?"

"Sure," I say. I want her to keep going; she's usually very taciturn, but this time she's doing most of the talking.

"These folders," she gestures to a stack of heavy looking manila folders, "are from Mr Grey – I requested a brief summary of the work I've done over the past ten years… This one" – she picks up the folder on the top, it is the smallest – "is the work I did at Techo. The rest are from GEH. So I was 21, and started work at Techo. This says I left Techo in January 2027 - 2 months before I turned 23. The folders also say I started at Grey House at the beginning of November, that same year. I was aged 23."

I nod, confirming everything she just said.

"But you see, Teddy said I was set up for a job at GEH right when I left Techo… So, what the hell was I doing for the nine months between January and November?"

My heart starts to beat faster in my chest, my palms are sweaty and I suddenly feel like I'm in an interrogation room.

Keep calm, Burr, I tell myself.

"I believe you were resting," I say, trying to keep my voice even.

"For _nine months_?"

"Yeah."

"Busy year was it? My dad told me that's also when I stopped living with you."

I sigh heavily. She knows I'm lying. Teddy told me it's the _one thing _I can't tell her about yet. I don't think anyone took into account that Sophie is ridiculously perceptive most the time. She's quiet; she watches people.

"Look," I tell her. "I know you know there's something we're not telling you. But you're putting me in a tough position. I'm not allowed to tell you. Just please trust that we know you're not ready to hear it yet; you're stressed out as it is."

"Okay," she sighs. "You're right. I'm sorry, it's unfair for me to pressure you."

"It's okay. I probably would do the same if I was in your position. I'd be annoyed too… So what else do the folders say?

"Things that don't make sense," she sighs. "I'm confused as to what I actually do at GEH… Teddy told me I was Chief Financial Officer. But I've also been referred to as Vice President for Finance and Chief Operating Officer. Never in a million years would I have thought I'd end up so successful... I'll have to ask Mr Grey about it… He's scary."

I think I see her shudder. I let out a small laugh

"Well, I didn't know that," I say. "You always said you were CFO. But I wouldn't be surprised about the others; you're the most hard working person I know".

She contemplates this for a few seconds, before moving on.

"So, things start off a bit slow at GEH. But by the time I'm 24 everything seems pretty fantastic… regarding career. Can you tell me anything about my personal life after that?"

"You had a few relationships, most where short, only a few months – by 'a few' I mean one or two – perhaps _one relationship _was more serious, that one lasted almost a year I think. You travelled quite a bit, you went to many of the places you had always wanted to go to. But your life revolved mostly around your job. Nothing much else… Until Ted."

"Oh yes," she says. "I was 29 when Teddy turned 21 and pulled out the contract from 11 years before; turns out he was serious about the damned thing. I refused. But after quite a bit of nagging, I did date him… and apparently I like him, and we've been together for two years now."

_Like _him? What the hell is that about? Does she not believe that they are in love?

"Okay," she continues. "So we start dating after Teddy's 21st birthday. Then 11 months later we accidentally fell pregnant – I had already turned 30 at this point, but he's still 21. Teddy turned 22 one month into the pregnancy – that's also one year we had been together. 4 months into the pregnancy, we got married, and spent a further month on our honeymoon – that brings us to 5 months pregnant. Then finally, 8 months in, the baby was born - a month early - which was the December that just passed. 4 months after that, brings us to now. I turned 31 in March, next month he turns 23 and we'll have been together for 2 years."

I can almost see the clogs turning in her head – doing the math that she's probably already done a hundred times, over the past two weeks. It's a little confusing when she says it quickly like that, and I have to listen carefully and work it out myself. But I eventually nod, she is correct. But the fact that she kept referring to their ages, tells me she's still bothered by the age gap between them. It's not even that much of a shocking gap.

"Yeah, that sounds about right," I say. "But why didn't you just ask Ted to confirm all the stuff about your relationship?"

"It's a lot easier to talk about it when he's not in front of me," she says. That sounds a little harsh but I understand where she's coming from.

"So, who have you seen so far?"

"Teddy, the baby, dad and Gail. Dr Grace and Carrick Grey. Mr Grey and Ana, came the other day to say hello, and drop these folders off. But that's it."

"No word from your mom?"

"No."

"I brought this for you," I say, rummaging through my purse and pulling out a half sized envelope. "It's photos of people you'll re-meet soon. Ted told me you looked up some important members of GEH, so that you're not completely clueless when you re-meet them. I thought you might want these to be more prepared when you re-meet the family. You don't have to use them if you don't want."

"No, I want them. Will you help me?"

I open the envelope, and sort through the pictures. Most of them are of the Grey family. There's some of her mother, Jeff and Harriet. And a few others that she might want to know. Even Fiona's picture is here. And some of the security team.

I lay out the first few pictures – the 'adults'. She recognises all of them; they haven't really changed so much. It's the 'kids' that she struggles with. I start with Ana and Mr Grey's kids. They're pretty easy to recognise, because each one of them has a different combination of looks, and of course she's already seen Ted. Phoebe looks just like Ana. Seth has Christian's eyes, and Ana's hair. And little Isabella looks like a mini, girl-version of her father.

I show her Mia and Ethan's twin girls after. Sophie gets Daisy and Pippa mixed up… But then again, so do the rest of us. Then comes Elliott and Kate's kids. Ava and Brandon are easy to guess. Monroe and Asher are almost identical, and she gets them confused, but Asher is the younger one, and therefore slightly smaller than his brother. Then, of course, Etty is the youngest.

"Who's this?" she asks, after we took a moment to gossip about Harriet's new fake nose.

_Here we go._

"That's my girlfriend: Fiona".

"Girlfriend? ...Since when? I mean… When did you _know_?"

"Err… Since I was about fifteen."

Her eyes comically go wide. Yet there's not a single hint of judgement in them. She really doesn't care that I'm gay.

"Why didn't I know about this?"

"I didn't know how to tell you. My parents didn't even know until I was twenty two. After you found out, you encouraged me to tell my parents. It was hard telling people, at first."

"So it's still hard to tell me now?"

"Not you. It is okay because I know you won't attack me. Also, I'm actually glad to get another chance to tell you… properly."

"Why? What happened the first time?"

"I'll let Ted tell that story. It's too embarrassing for me to relive it. I'm still trying to forget it ever happened."

"That bad? Did I walk in on something?"

"Just let Ted tell you about it. He'll be thrilled... He likes telling stories."

"Oh, I know. We've been talking a lot. Mostly, about him. I wanted to know what he's been up to."

I giggle.

"What?" she asks.

"You're kicking the tyres," I sing teasingly. "You're checking him out! ...And now you're blushing"

"Well, I am allowed to," she defends.

"Yes, besides, what's not to like? You have a handsome, rich toy boy. School teacher by day, aspiring writer," I say, in the most dramatic voice I can conjure. "Have you read his work yet? He likes to show you, no one else is really allowed."

Ted wants to write, and does so in his spare time. For a full-time job he teaches English Literature at a local High School.

"He gave me a few short stories. They're very good. And he inherited his love for books from his mother, and she helps him with his ambition. But he said his mom hasn't published him yet, because she says it's not his own voice. I have no doubt he'll eventually find it. I always thought he'd take a career after his father, something business like. He's always been full of surprises. But as a teacher, he really enjoys his job. I'm told he is fantastic… I'm sure all the girls drool over him."

"Do _you _drool over him?" I grin. She crossed her arms as a refusal to answer. "Have you seen him with his glasses on yet? Smouldering, isn't he? You're blushing again!" I laugh

"Oh whatever… Tell me about this Fiona of yours."

"Oh my god, Sophie, I love her so much. She's fun and smart and beautiful. And she makes me better. We've been together for about three years now".

"That's so great. I'm happy for you. You sound really happy…" she trails off, and her face becomes unreadable. I think she's thinking about her own relationship.

"Hey Soph, you're happy too… with Ted, like really fucking happy. I think you should go home with him. Give it a try. Just go home, see what it's like… it might trigger something in your memory."

"You really think so?"

"Yes"

"Okay"

"You'll do it?"

"Yes… I refuse to share a bed though." She pouts, with her arms crossed, like a stubborn child. I laugh. "Oh god, I'm really not a virgin any more am I?" she blurts.

"No definitely not," I laugh again. "You _do _have a kid. And despite what you might think, they don't come down from heaven via a stork."

"At least my boobs are bigger… and my hips… And at least my lady parts don't look weird, which I'm surprised about because I pushed out a little person."

She said that whole thing with a completely straight face, and I crack up laughing. Seriously, she actually spent time thinking about that?

"What's so funny!?"

"Oh Sophie, you'll be just fine."


	6. Hello, Mrs Grey

**Sophie**

I have been waiting for this moment for almost three weeks. Three long weeks of wearing those barely-there papery white robes, with practically permanent goose bumps on my haven't-seen-a-razor-in-fucking-forever legs. Now I get to slide into soft denim jeans. Whoever invented jeans should receive a sainthood or something. They're just _so_ comfy!

I throw on the green hooded top and Chucks that Teddy brought for me this morning. It's been four days since Penelope visited, and now I'm going home... with Teddy. The baby and I have been getting along just fine. And I've done enough babysitting to generally know what I'm doing. But Teddy does most of the work. I've now gotten into the habit of regularly pumping milk for her. I've come to see it as part of my routine… Like taking daily vitamins or something.

"You ready to go?" my dad says, popping his head round my door. He looks _much_better than the first time I saw him after I woke up, he looks more like his normal self.

"Yeah"

I follow him out of the room, to find Teddy waiting in the corridor. My dad takes my duffel bag off my shoulder. I can move pretty much fine now, but my muscles do get sore with too much movement, and stretching absolutely kills.

When we leave the building together, I am led to a black 4X4 Range Rover. Cooper's already behind the wheel and dad rides shotgun, so I sit in the back with Teddy and the baby, who fidgets in her car seat.

As we head off dad tells me the doctor's orders _again_. They gave me pain killers just in case. I'm supposed to be taking naps during the day to keep my stress level down. And I have to go for check-ups every so often.

"Nice car," I say after a while.

"It's yours," Teddy says.

"I thought..."

"No, that was my car," he says.

"Oh... I'm sorry about your car".

He just laughs humourlessly. I play with the baby's little feet for the rest of the journey. Eventually we pull up in front of a tall cylindrical building, with evenly spaced flat dome balconies, making it look as if the building has scales like a fish.

"Tower 801?" I ask.

Teddy just shrugs, and climbs out of the car with the baby. Cooper disappears to park the car, whilst dad and Teddy walk me into the building. In the entrance there a lot of glass everywhere, I'm reminded of Elsa's _Frozen_ice palace. (I should probably stop watching so many movies). I give a tight smile to the staff at the front desk, who do the whole 'Welcome back, Sophie', grin and wave thing.

A young man, with a dog, comes out of the elevator as we go in. He gives me a sympathetic look. I know I have a noticeable scar on my face, but I wonder…

"Does he know what happened?" I ask as we head upwards.

"I'm sure he's read something somewhere" Teddy says.

"Huh?"

"My father is one of the most successful businessmen in America. I am his son. You are my wife. And the press are leeches feeding off any speck of drama they find".

So, I'm supposed to keep my stress level down how exactly?

"Don't think about it too much Sophie... And definitely don't read it... Promise me," my dad says.

"Promise" I mutter.

I look around the apartment, once we get inside. Just as expected the apartment is wedge shaped - to fit the circular building – with a divide down the middle. On the left there's a small kitchen and open plan living/dining room. On the right there's a small corridor that leads to the bedroom, and bathroom. The space is mostly illuminated by the late-afternoon sun coming through the glass windows, overlooking the balcony. If I thought I was escaping the hospital to somewhere more homely, I was wrong. I thought that with Teddy and the baby here, there might be books and toys tucked into all the corners. But there isn't, most of it is bare and vacant. I can't see any photo frames or decorations.

The only speck of life I see is the vibrant colours of a mural on the wall. It's a painting of a forest path, and loads of strange things in it. It makes hardly any sense. It shows very little skill. And it breaks up the clean white like a blemish. But it is a good blemish.

"Are you hungry?" Teddy asks me.

"A little," I say. "Papa, are you staying for dinner?"

I turn to find my father standing in the dining area, looking rather awkward.

"Do you need me here?"

Teddy and I have spent the past three weeks talking to each other in my hospital room. Nothing much was said, but it wasn't particularly uncomfortable.

"No, I think we're fine here."

"Then I'll go. Gail isn't feeling great, so I've got to take care of her."

Oh? I wasn't told.

_That is because everyone was focusing on you._

Oh fuck, I thought the voice had gone away.

_Nope._

"Oh tell her I send my love."

"Will do. Call me if you need anything."

"Sure". Giving me a kiss and hug, he leaves.

"I'm going to prepare some food… Please stop standing there like a lemon. This is your place."

I pull a small smile for him as he goes into the kitchen. I pull off my shoes and sit down on the floor next to the baby's mat.

"Ab ab ab," she gurgles, as she reaches for me. I sit her up, supporting her on my lap. I tried to entertain her with a stuffed bunny for a while, but she just grabs and drops it. So I pick her up and go exploring.

"So what's with the mural?" I ask in a raised voice, so Teddy can hear me.

"It's yours. You always painted that wall with different pictures. And when we first started dating you were painting a forest. Then as our relationship evolved, and you just added on to it. First the path, then the flowers. Then one day I came over and there was a giraffe - I asked you why and you said it was because anything can happen".

Is that it? It seemed like there would be a much bigger meaning than just 'anything can happen'.

"Am I even allowed to do that to the wall?" I ask. In a place like this, I'm surprised they even let pets into the building.

"My dad managed to pull some strings, so you can paint on that one wall, as long as it's gone whenever you choose to move out"

_Mr Grey_pulled some strings? What the hell? Why would he care so much about me being able to paint on that wall? I remember Teddy saying we were supposedly 'good friends' or whatever, but surely the wall is not that important. I could have just got a big canvas or something, maybe not wall-sized but it would do. It's very strange.

I flick through some mail I found on a counter near the door. It seemed a bit silly to still be shocked by now, but I hadn't seen my name written like that before: SOPHIE TAYLOR-GREY.

Grey. I've seen the name a thousand times. Just never tagged onto the end of mine, like that. Taylor-Grey. I find myself turning the rings that are _still_on my finger, with my thumb.

"Abab abababab", the baby says. I bounce her and move on, leaving the mail where it is.

I find that the baby's stroller and bigger play toys are folded up in a storage cupboard by the front door. I also find that all three of us share the one bedroom; the baby has her crib in the corner, and her clothes are amongst ours. When I open a closet in the hallway, I find what I was really looking for. The built in shelves are filled with books, like a hidden away library. I scan the titles. Luckily I recognise a lot of them, most of the others must have been published sometime in the last ten years. I feel like I'm getting to see a bit more of Teddy – of who he is.

_So there is life here… it's just hidden._

"You okay?" Teddy asks, suddenly beside me.

"Yeah, I found your stuff… Why do you keep it here?"

"You prefer it that way."

"Really?" I feel my face scrunch up. He just nods.

"What's in those boxes?" I ask, pointing to several plastic storage boxes at the bottom.

"Photos and home videos and such. Brandon is interested in film, and he is always behind the camera recording things. We have quite a few videos of family get-togethers, and other events."

"What about that one?" I point to a heavy duty, black, metal box in the corner. It has a combination lock on it.

"Just some tools," he answers far too quickly. I don't think he's lying. But I've already found a toolbox in the other cupboard, so what are these tools for?

"So, what do you think of the place?" he asks.

"It's okay. It's surprisingly small".

"It's not that small. And why are you surprised?"

"Surprisingly small _for you_… you know, because you're a rich kid and all," I tease. " I thought you'd have your own library and office. And a nursery... Maybe a cinema... and swimming pool."

He laughs heartily.

"The space was fine when you were living here by yourself. But then I moved in. And then Anouk came along so fast, things got disorganised. We were supposed to move. But then there was just no time".

I shut the cupboard door.

"Is dinner ready?" I ask.

"Yes."

We sit at the dinner table. Teddy had warmed up lasagne that Ana made for us, so we didn't have to cook. She must have dropped by earlier. It tastes _so_ much better than the food at the hospital.

"So," Teddy starts. "Phoebe was upset she didn't see you before she had to go back to college. But she's coming to visit in two days, just for the weekend. I just wanted to know if you'd be up for having dinner with the family... It'll just be my parents and sisters, because Seth is still gallivanting around Europe for his gap year."

I've already seen his parents so I don't feel _too_ anxious about that. But I haven't seen his siblings. I guessed them correctly in the pictures with Penelope, but it's not the same as seeing someone in real life. The last thing I remember was that Phoebe was 11, Seth was 9 and Isabella was only 3. They've changed a lot since then. But a picture doesn't show how they act, or what they're up to. Or even how tall they are. In fact, the more I think about, the more curious I am. I _want_to see them.

Suddenly, I get slightly distracted by Anouk fussing with her bottle.

_She doesn't like the bottle,_my subconscious comments.

Shut up.

_It's not the same as –_

"Urm, yeah, that'll be nice," I say to Teddy.

"Sorry, what was that? It sounded like you just said two things at the same time. Also, did you say something about breasts?"

"What? No". I can feel my face getting hot.

Oh my god, did the subconscious voice just come out of my mouth? Maybe I should tell Flynn.

_Oh yeah sure! Tell everyone you're hearing voices! You won't get sent to the loony bin or anything._

Good point. Note to self: don't interrupt Subconscious by talking out loud. Also, keep her in check.

"I said that it'll be great to see them," I tell him.

"Okay. Awesome."

"Also," I say. "I've been meaning to tell you: Penelope told me to ask you about the time I found out that she liked girls. She said she was too embarrassed to tell me herself."

His eyes light up at the prospect of telling a story… even if it is just one tiny event, and not in fancy prose. He grins and bites down on his plump bottom lip. Like that, he looks… sexy. Oh my god, what am I thinking?!

_You were thinking about how sexy he is._

But that's _Teddy._

_Nice of you to notice, idiot._

Do you have to be so mean all the time?

_Yes._

"It happened during the time you two were living together. One night she was really upset, you didn't know why because she wouldn't tell you, but you took her out to a bar to try to cheer her up. You got her drunk in the hopes she would tell you what was wrong, but instead she just got sick. So you took her home, and put her in bed. But as you were helping her in, she grabbed you and tried to… get it on. Luckily you managed to keep her at bay until she passed out, which was pretty quickly. In the morning you asked her about it, and she explained that: one, she's homosexual. Two, she was upset because her secret girlfriend broke up with her for someone else. And three, she doesn't see you in that way, and she only made a move on you because she was drunk, upset and you were being caring. To her surprise you just laughed it off."

I don't say anything. I just crack up laughing. I laugh until my stomach hurts. I can't believe that actually happened. I'm not going to let Penelope live it down.

Dinner is calm and steady after that. But I can only seem to eat enough to satisfy my hunger. Teddy takes the baby to get ready for bed when we've finished. I decide I might as well do the dishes.

"You didn't need to do that. I could have done it," Teddy says a little later, when he comes in still holding a very sleepy babe.

"It's okay. I still remember how to do the dishes," I try to joke. He doesn't seem to find it funny.

_Your humour is dry,_Subconscious says.

"Can I tuck her in?" I offer.

"Of course."

I don't put her down straight away. I hold her soft, warm body in my arms, and sway her back and forth for a little bit. I stroke her feathery yellow hair, as I support her head. I keep her close to my chest. It takes me a while to notice that I am humming. It is an uncanny sound. It's slow and can get quite high pitched. It's like I know the song but I just can't remember the lyrics, or what comes next. I feel like a stereo, the song is flowing out of me at its own accord. When I can see she is almost asleep, I lay her in her crib near the bed, and tuck her pink blanket around her. I continue to hum as I watch her sleep. The song is frustrating - like when you lose a thought, and it _almost_comes back to you, but you still miss it. Like you _just had it,_but it keeps slipping away. I know the song. I know I do.

"Why that song?" Teddy whispers quietly.

"I don't even remember what song it is," I say. "Why do you ask?"

"It's from _Into the Woods._You're favourite movie. You sang it to Anouk every night before the accident."

"That movie came out ages ago, but I've never watched it... Or at least I don't remember it."

"Well you can watch it for the second first time. Just don't watch it without me, okay?"

"Why?"

"Because I want to see your reaction – I want to see you fall in love with it again."

"Okay."

That night, after I had a long shower and carefully washed away any remaining hospital smell, I lie awake in the middle of the bed. Teddy offered me the bed, and took the pull-out couch for himself. He said that he'd have the baby's crib moved into the living room, so she wouldn't disrupt me during the night, in the future. I insisted that it was completely fine for her to stay where she is, I think he ignored me on that. But for tonight the door is half open, for him to come in if she starts crying. I just feel so guilty; he is taking care of her all by himself, just because my stupid head doesn't remember anything. I must be such a burden to everyone around me right now. The guilt is what is keeping me up, all I can do is stare up at the ceiling, illuminated just a little by the baby's night light. I hum the tune I was singing before, until I fall asleep.


	7. Never Quite as Scary

**Phoebe**

My mom collects me from Sea-Tac around 3.00pm on Friday. She must have left work early to pick me up. That's the best thing about my parent's jobs; they are their own bosses. Growing up and getting everything I wanted was great. But the fact that my parents can be with me anytime I want or need them to be, that's even better.

When she sees me she rushes over to give me a hug and kisses.

"I missed you," she says.

"Mom," I laugh, "it's only been about two weeks."

"Wait until you have kids, then you'll understand."

"Hello, Sawyer," I wave to him in the driver's seat, once we get in the car.

"Nice to see you, Miss Grey," he smiles.

Mom tells me we're going to pick up Isabella as well.

"How is everyone?" I ask, when we set off.

"Better," Mom says.

Better is good.

My phone buzzes. It's a text from Jude again:

**_Jude:_**___How was your flight?_

I sigh heavily. I met Jude in high school and we've been friends ever since. And now he wants something more. But after my last relationship with Harvey Fleming (a.k.a. the asshole), I'm not ready for another relationship.

I met Harvey after I had just turned 20. I was dropping off some keys at Dad's work and I was just leaving when I – literally – bumped into Harvey. In that one conversation with him, he so charming that I agreed to go on a date with him, even though he was 6 years older than me, and my parents would flip a switch if they knew. We started seeing each other in secret after that. He was everything I wanted in a guy: smart, funny, considerate and handsome as hell. He showed me many wonderful things. And I gave him everything.

But when he asked me to go behind my dad's back and to get very specific information about certain accounts, all I could think was: he used me. I just got mad, I started shouted at him. Shouting and shouting. And then he slapped me. It was hard enough to make me fall on my butt, and leave a bruise. By the time I could gather my wits again, he had already left the apartment. It is stupid how abuse works: he hits you, which is his shameful behaviour, yet you're the one who feels the most ashamed about it.

I couldn't bear to tell my parents, it was far too embarrassing. I could have called Uncle Taylor, he probably would have killed Harvey and make it look like an accident. But then I also knew how loyal he was to my father, and he'd probably tell him about it. Jude was at UCLA at the time. So I called the only people I could think of: Ted and Sophie. I made them promise not to tell anyone, Ted was reluctantly but Sophie is good at convincing stubborn people. So they said they wouldn't tell as long as I wouldn't get in their way when they went after him (which I had no objection against). Sophie stayed on the phone with me until Ted came to pick me up and take me back to their place. They both covered for me - we told everyone I tripped and had fallen flat on my face – it wasn't hard to believe, as I have always been rather clumsy. They made sure I was okay. It wasn't until I had arrived back at college that I heard what happened to Harvey.

Yeah - I guess you could say that the Grey family attracts quiet a few crooks; we're just one big danger magnet. But we have one hell of a way of dealing with them: absolute ferocity.

Sometime between Harvey hitting me, and me going back to college, Ted had kicked his ass, whilst Sophie had dug out every dirty little secret he had... Turns out he had a habit of hitting his girlfriends. After one anonymous tip Sophie and Ted watched it play out, from a distance - they kept me well out of it, as other girls came forward to testify against him, after they heard about him going on trail. I didn't testify, as I didn't even know any of this was happening until he was already locked up for abuse.

But the main difference between me and those girls is that he only hit me once. And I don't plan on being in the same situation again.

So, even though I know Jude is a good guy. And we work well together as a team. And he makes me laugh and see things in a different light. I am not ready for the risk.

**_Me:_**___It was okay. Some air steward kept giving me eyes. It was kinda creepy._

His response is immediate:

**_Jude:_**___Tell me his name; I'll kick his ass._

**_Me:_**___You and your skinny self?_

**_Jude:_**___I am not skinny! OMG. I'm going to have to show off my muscles for you when I see you next. I might even let you feel them._

I laugh out loud. Mom looks at me like I've lost my marbles.

"Jude," I explain.

"Ah," she nods. "How is your boyfriend?"

Mom has had a theory that Jude and I will end up together. In fact, she's thoroughly convinced of it.

"Jude is fine… and _not_my boyfriend".

"Okay," she says and purses her lips, as if she doesn't believe me.

I roll my eyes and continue my jovial conversation with Jude. Just because he wants more from the relationship, doesn't mean he has stopped being my best friend.

The drive to Hamilton International Middle School is long, but Sawyer makes good work of avoiding traffic lines. The weather is getting warmer here. Usually I'm too busy to make the trip from one side of the continent to the other so often, so I just use Skype. But I just _had_to make the trip down this time, even if it is just for the weekend.

Isabella had soccer practise until 4.30. So we get there in good time. I grin and wave when I see my younger sister running over to us, dirt covering her kit, and her big back-pack bouncing on her back. I give her a big kiss on her cheek.

"Ew," she complains, batting me away. I laugh.

Iz briefly talks about her day on the way home, but mostly she talks about soccer, soccer and more soccer. When we arrive home I find dad in the kitchen, skilfully cutting up a red pepper.

"Cooking by yourself dad? I'm surprised you haven't burned down the house yet," I say, going to give him a hug.

"Hello Phebs. And no, I haven't... because I learnt from the best," he answers, winking at Mom, who goes all red in the face.

Before things get too lovey-dovey in the kitchen, I escape upstairs to get ready for dinner. I shower and put on a light pink dress and sandals. Then I head to Iz's room. I see she's also showered and changed into a marl grey, t-shirt dress, and black biker boots.

"Hey," I say. "Can I do your hair?"

She nods and hands me a brush. She sits patiently at her vanity whilst I gently blow-dry her copper hair, then I put it into a simple French braid. We stay in comfortable silence. Out of the four of us Iz is the sportiest, I am the least; I always preferred the sciences. Whilst I mostly take after Mom, Iz takes after Dad. And though we are opposite and clash a lot of the time, we're sisters and there we will always find middle ground.

We go down stairs to help set the table, and by the time we're done the doorbell rings. We all head over to greet Ted, Sophie and Anouk. I stand back with Iz whilst my parents surround the strange little family by the door. After hugs and kisses and Sophie looking startled when my dad gives her an awkward one armed hug, they finally move over to us. My mom takes Anouk from Sophie whilst she dotes on my little sister. Ted grins gives me a big brotherly hug.

"Hey Ted," I tell him. "You look better; less tired".

"I feel better," he says quietly, before swooping Isabella up and spinning her around. Her laughter fills the room.

"Hi," Sophie says shyly. She's wearing a cream crochet dress that falls to her mid calves, and grey Converse shoes. She looks great, but the effects of the accident are evident: a pink scar mars her pretty face, she dons a wrist support, and she walks with the slightest limp. But, Sophie was never one to care too much about her looks.

"Hello," I smile. I embrace her lightly; I heard her ribs got hurt too.

"You look so gorgeous," she grins. "And I heard you're at Yale now, you clever girl."

"Thank you," I say, as I lead her over to the dining room.

Dinner felt strangely normal, considering the situation. We ate the stir-fry dad cooked, and mom made banana fritters with vanilla ice cream. My parents have a no-phones-at-the-table rule, but over the years I learnt how to hide it under the table. I check it several times for texts from Jude, when no one is looking.

Sophie asked about what we were up to, I told her about my Biomedical Science course, and plans to do an internship at Seattle Children's Hospital next year. Iz doesn't really know what she wants to do yet, but of course she talks all about soccer. I think she'll end up on the women's soccer Olympic team. Mom turns into a proud momma bear when she explains Seth's love for History and about his trip around Europe, visiting all the sites. Then dad starts talking to Sophie about the financial market, and what she thinks of his company. And first she's a little taciturn but then she really gets into the conversation. The rest of us seem to stop listening when we no longer understand what they're talking about. Ted throws me a look of mock exasperation, from across the table, as if to say: _Typical of these two!_

I laugh at him.

After dinner I manage to catch Sophie on the sofa for a chat. Mom and dad are in the kitchen, and Ted and Iz are playing with Anouk; we're out of hearing distance.

"So, what have you been up to since you were discharged?" I ask her.

"Nothing much. Teddy was already on paternity leave, so he's just been helping me get back into the routine of things. We went for a walk yesterday, just around the area, to show me what's changed. And I've also been checking through old texts and emails just to see what I was like. But I didn't find much; apparently, I preferred to speak over the phone, or in person".

"So, everything has been going great so far?"

"Yeah, I thought it would be really hard to live with a guy for the first time… with a baby. But Ted's been really helpful".

"That's good."

"I'm tired of talking about myself. Let's talk more about you. So are you seeing someone at the moment?"

I swear she's a mind reader or something. Talk about hitting the nail on the head.

"No," I say. "Well actually, maybe you could give me some advice. My best friend from high school recently told me that he likes me for more than just a friend. He's a great guy, but my previous relationship was pretty messy. I don't think I'm ready for another relationship just yet. But for some reason, I can't find the words to tell him that."

Her quick mind cuts right to the chase.

"Do you think the reason you can't tell him is because you sort of so want to be in a relationship with him?"

Okay, so that escalated quickly! I know she doesn't have any bias towards Jude; she doesn't remember him.

"Why would you automatically think that?"

"Phoebe, you said less than one sentence about him. But you're eyes lit up when you said that 'he's a great guy'. Also, you were constantly checking your phone, under the table at dinner. So, what exactly is the problem?"

"I'm scared of being hurt again and…"

"Do you think you're in danger of getting hurt with him?"

"No," I say, especially not the way Harvey hurt me. "I think he really likes me, and would never hurt me. He's not the problem."

"So… if you weren't scared you'd be with him now? In a relationship, I mean."

I think on this for a while. Loving Jude is not an issue; he is easily lovable. I haven't even been able to think about the issue of our friendship being ruined if it didn't work out between us. There is only the fear of being hurt, scared and vulnerable. Always just the fear.

"Yes, I think so."

"Well then give it a try. If it doesn't work, then hopefully, as best friends you'll come to a mutual agreement that you were just supposed to be friends. If it doesn't work then at least you'll always know you tried. If you don't you'll always be asking 'what if?'"

"Yeah, you're right."

I'm afraid of getting hurt. But I'm also afraid that one day Jude will give up waiting for me, and find some other girl, and eventually marry her, instead. Then I'll end up being the crazy old cat lady. I sigh… I'm thinking _way_ too far ahead.

"Hey," Sophie says, interrupted my troubling. "You know those photo's we take every year and at big events – with us 'kids' outside the front of the house?" I nod. "Can I see them? I asked Teddy and he said he didn't have any copies."

"Of course," I get up and find the right photo album and hand it to her. "I'm just going to grab a drink, would you like anything?"

"No, thank you."

I head to the kitchen, where I find Ted and Anouk. He looks happy.

"You and Sophie look like you're having girly-talk - I'm glad," he says. "She's been stuck in a hospital room for a long time. She even seems to be bonding with dad."

"I know, it's great. But how have _you two_ been bonding?"

"She hasn't kicked my ass yet, so I guess that's a good sign," he laughs. "I think we're making progress. Very, very slow progress. But better than nothing at all."

His smile weavers a little.

"What's wrong?"

"We haven't really talked about our relationship yet. I mean, we talked objectively at first. Then it got a little closer to home. But we haven't talked about what we're going to do next"

"You should definitely talk about that soon".

"I know, but I don't know how to start that conversation."

"Just do it how you usually do things: face it head on".

"Yeah, okay," he mutters. "Next month, we'll have been together for two years, in my mind. But only about two months in hers."

"Look Ted, remember the time when she would never have even thought about dating you? And then you made her see that you were serious about her, and despite the age gap, and her bullheadedness, you got her in the end."

He pauses for a few seconds.

"But, did I really?"

Anouk bursts out crying, just Ted sniffs the air and crinkles his nose.

"I have to change her diaper", he says heading for the bathroom.

I make my way back to Sophie. The photo collection has become a bit of a family tradition. Whenever the whole family comes around to our place - which is at least once a year - we quickly stand outside the front of the house and snap a picture of the 'kids'. That means all twelve of us - me and my three siblings, Uncle El and Aunt Kate's 5 kids, and Aunt Mia and Uncle Ethan's twins, and then there's Sophie, who as far back as I can remember was already considered sort of family. I suspect that was because she lived with us most the time, and also because she and Ted were playmates when they were little.

The first ever picture is of Ted and Sophie, who is carefully holding a little baby Ava, in May 2014 – Ted's 2nd birthday. The latest picture, was last Boxing day, just a few hours after Anouk was born, the exhausted new parents sit in the middle, holding their little bundle of joy. While the other ten of us stand around them. The collection is almost a documentation of how we've changed over the years. I'm surprised she hadn't been shown this sooner.

When I look over Sophie's shoulder she has the photo album open on a specific page, with three pictures on it. The first is dated for July 2026, a normal picture, Sophie's grinning happily. The next picture is August 2027, it looks pretty normal on it's own, but when put beside other pictures one can tell it looks a little strange - despite our attempts, we couldn't really hide the absence of Sophie. It's the only picture in the album from that year. The third picture is from March 2028 Sophie's in the photo again. She's smiling, but there's no happiness in her eyes, she just looks tired and rather gaunt.

I sit down beside her. I don't know if I just happened to come back when she was looking at the page, or if she had stopped to examine it herself. But if she has… the thought makes my stomach uneasy with nervousness.

"Looking for something in particular?" I ask.

"Not really," she says. "Just seeing the changes."

I can't tell if she's lying or not. She suddenly looks around as if she just remembered something.

"Where's the baby?" she asks.

_The baby?_Does she always refer to Anouk like that? It make me think she's struggling with this more than she shows.

"Ted took her to change her diaper," I say. She visibly relaxes. I don't know what harm she thinks Anouk will be in _here,_but it's nice to see Sophie showing motherly concern for the daughter she doesn't remember.

"I just want make sure you know," I say. "We're all here for you. All of us. I know you're talking to Dr. Flynn, but there's always someone around that you can talk to. And you can give me a call any time you want. You're everyone's big sister, Sophie. Anyone would be pleased to help."

"Thank you," is all she says.


	8. Let Me Count the Ways

**Sophie**

Dinner was great. Phoebe is so grown up, Iz is an angel and Ana is still one of the kindest people to ever exist. I even had a long conversation with Mr Grey. It was a little stiff at first, but he's actually a really interesting guy, with an amazing work ethic. It did get a little awkward though when he asked me what I thought about the company, from what I read so far, and I tried to say a more sophisticated version of: 'well, actually I think you're a fucking genius'. But I didn't want to ask him too many questions about the things I don't remember whilst we were having dinner with the family, so I'll have to talk to him about it some other time.

But what's keeping me up at midnight is the call we received from my father, in the car on the way home. So far my dad has been managing of all the crap that would have stressed me out even more; distant relatives that heard about my accident, the police, and even the press that Teddy mentioned the other day. Dad said the police called, and were asking questions about what I remember from the crash. I don't remember anything about the crash, that's what dad told them, and they know I suffer from amnesia. But they still _insist_on talking to me themselves, dad thinks they're going to tell us some important information, so he's coming too when the detectives come round tomorrow. So far all we know about the driver is from the surveillance cameras in the area – it was a white van, rented with a fake ID and paid in cash. I mean, could you get any more suspicious?

So, here I am, lying awake in bed dreading meeting the detectives tomorrow. The baby is sleeping soundly in her crib against the wall. I had to put up a fight with Teddy to keep her here – I like to listen very closely to her quite snoring before I go to sleep. But tonight I'm restless. So, I get out of bed and go to get a glass of water.

In the living room I'm surprised to find that Teddy is awake, the TV is on with the volume turned down very low. It appears he's watching _Game of Thrones _reruns.

I hurry to the kitchen and pour myself some cool water from the refrigerator, before making my way back to the living room.

"Hello," Teddy says quietly. He has his black glasses on which frame his beautiful blue eyes. Penelope was right when she was teasing me, there's no denying it: I find him attractive and... what was the word she used? Smouldering.

_Are you squirming?_My subconscious asks, I ignore her completely.

"I can't sleep, can I sit with you?" I ask.

"Of course."

I settle down beside him on the pull out bed, and take small sips of water. His arm rests against mine as we sit side by side, and I feel his warm, smooth skin touch mine were our clothes don't cover – I find the contact rather comforting. We sit for a while just watching TV, until Teddy sighs and picks up the remote to press the pause button.

"This is probably bad timing," he starts. "But I wanted to talk to you about us… our next step"

Here we go, I think.

"Okay hear me out," he continues. "I know it's still soon. But it would give me some peace of mind, to know that whenever you're ready, you'd be willing to give me a chance at showing you what we had."

I sit and breathe for a moment, trying to collect the right words to say.

"I am still trying to get my head around the fact that I'm married… and to _you_of all people."

"Something wrong with me?"

"No, not _you._But… sort of, the idea of you." I sigh, I probably sound like a weirdo to him. "Okay, so besides the fact that I didn't want to get married - "

"You never expressed that to me."

"Ever?"

"Never."

I shake my head, remembering what Penelope had said to me the other day: _'There were a lot of things with you that you'd talk about, but not_really_talk about. A lot of things weren't said.'_

"You were happy when I asked you to marry me. You said 'yes' straight away."

Again Penelope's words run through my head: _'you're happy too… with Ted, like really fucking happy_'.

_You should talk to Flynn about it,_my subconscious suggests.

"Besides _that_," I continue, "I'm confused as to why it's you. I mean you're eight years younger than me – "

"Blake Lively and Ryan Reynolds, were 11 years apart. They still had a relationship. Jason Statham and Rosie Huntington- Whiteley were _20 years_apart. Do you want me to go on?"

"They're not _us -_"

"My mom and dad are 6 years apart. Aunt Kate and Uncle El are 7 years apart. And let's not forget that your dad is 8 years younger than your step-mom… Like us."

"None of them grew up together."

"I beg to differ; people grow every day."

"When I was 21, you were 13, and _if_ we had had a relationship it would have been paedophilia. But I _never_ thought of you that way. But then you turn 21, and it's okay and legal, and then suddenly I was attracted to you. Like how does that work? Do you have a switch somewhere that you turned on when you turned 21 that suddenly made me think you're attractive? Like do I have a chip in my head?"

_Okay, if he had any doubt that you might not be crazy, it's probably gone now._

"So you think I'm attractive?" he smirks.

I pinch the bridge of my nose.

"Not now Theodore," I sigh. "My point is: what's the difference between us _now_ and us _then_, except for the law saying that it's okay for us to be together?"

"We're different that before," he insists. "Believe it or not, when we first started dating there was still so much that I didn't know about you. And there's _still_so much I don't know. I felt like I was going out with a friend, who I was getting closer to – not someone I've known all my life. And you can't sit here and tell me that I'm the same 13 year old Teddy you remember. And I don't just mean physically. I've changed, and you've changed."

I can't argue with him. I've spent three weeks with him. It's like meeting someone for the first time and realising that they remind you of someone else you know… but of course they're not the same person.

"I used to babysit you," I murmur.

"You used to babysit _with_me," he corrects. I sigh and shake my head.

"Besides," he continues, "if you've forgotten 10 years, and you only remember until you were 21, in a way that kind of makes you a 21 year old. And I'm about to be 23, so that makes _me_older than you, by 2 years."

Maybe _he's_the crazy one.

"That's not how it works, Teddy."

"Fine," he huffs. "But will you just forget about the age thing?"

I sigh. He does make a good point.

"I can _try_," I concede.

"Good, he grins. "So, you'll give me a chance then?"

I purse my lips.

"What now?" he asks.

"You shouldn't be with me Teddy."

"And why is that?"

"I'm not a good person."

"Okay, that's the dumbest thing I've ever head."

"I am _not_a good person, Teddy! I'm terrible to my family."

"What are you talking about we all have a wonderful relationship."

"You know I mean the family in New York"

"Well okay… but they started it."

I roll my eyes.

"It's just I always thought that you'd end up with someone… amazing – as amazing as you are. And fun. And kind. And someone your own age so you can do stuff together."

"I thought you were giving up on the age thing"

"I tried, I failed."

"You do know that you're not ancient, right? We still do everything that other couples do."

"I feel ancient," I laugh.

He smiles.

"Everything that you wanted for me, I have found in you, okay? You're amazing and more, none of your excuses are going to convince me otherwise."

"I just don't understand how we're together. You must understand that, for me it's so weird."

"I can sympathise. But I'd like to hear your theories."

"There is a baby…"

"And what about the 11 months we were together before we were pregnant?"

"People react positively to a pretty face," I shrug.

"Do you mean me or you?"

"Both."

He sighs, and runs a hand through his messy, dark copper hair.

"We're together because we love each other."

My heart skips a beat. That's the first time someone's said that in so many words.

"How can you love me?" I mutter.

"I love the girl who protects the people around her. I love the girl who knows when to ditch someone when they've done wrong or and when to give them a fourth chance, even if they didn't deserve a second. I love the girl who is kind and caring and smart and puts everyone else first, before she'll even consider thinking about herself."

"That doesn't sound like me."

"I know you. I know there's a lot of events in your past that I don't know about, and I know you don't say everything that's on your mind. But I know _you._And I'm saying it is you, trust me on that one."

He's saying he loves me…

…He is young…

"I'm not asking for a 'yes' right now," he says. "I'm asking for a 'maybe'".

…_But mature._

"Sleep on it, okay?"

"Okay."

_He can't wait forever, you know?_

I know, and I don't want him to.

"Can I sit with you a while longer?"

"Sure."

He resumes the TV, and we sit in silence together. It is nice. It feels _normal._

I must have fallen asleep, because next thing I know I'm being carried into the bedroom– cradled in Teddy's strong arms. I feel very small and safe. His body is warm against mine. Then I'm being tucked into bed. I find that a part of me wants him to stay with me. But I feel his lips press to my forehead briefly. I feel his warm breath on my face, as he sighs the words:

"I love you".


	9. Dark Hour of Reason

**Sophie**

There is a small window. It is rectangular with rounded corners. It is an airplane window. I can see the sky. The different hues of dark and bright blue, with streaks of orange and pink. It is sunrise. And then it's gone.

I'm in an apartment – a penthouse. I've been here only a few times before, but enough to know my way around. I'm not alone. Beside me is Phoebe. I don't know how I know but I know she is only 12. Little Seth and Iz are with us. Ana said she would meet us here. We put our things down on white plush sofas. I put my phone down on the table.

We're in the kitchen now, eating cookies. There is a crash upstairs. We all freeze and listen.

Bang!

Protect. Isabella is in my arms and we're moving. Fast. Quiet.

Papa's office. Panic room. Inside. Lock. Safe.

There's a wall of TV screens. Surveillance. They are all off. The phone. Call the police.

Ana is coming. Warn. 911 calls only. Not surveillance.

"_Don't open this door for anyone. Only your parents, Teddy, me, Sawyer or Taylor. Promise me?"_

"_Promise."_ Wide blue eyes.

A door shuts behind me. I'm moving again. I peek around the corner. No one. Run. Ringing. Phone. Table. Run.

I am no longer alone. A man. Dirty, long, red hair.

"_The henchman. It has to be. She looks just like him."_

Protect. Protect. Protect.

Protect. Phone ringing- Ana- Press- Accept. Protect.

He launches himself at me. We fly. We fall. Drop phone. Scream.

"_The henchman. That motherfucker will get it too. Yeah – get what's coming to him."_

Weight on my chest. Can't breathe.

He hits me. Pain. Hit. Pain. Hit. Pain. I taste salt and metal. Red sticky liquid.

Rip. Rip. T-shirt. Calloused hands. Skin.

Then there's a different red. A veil. A stain on my vision. Everything is red.

And I've snapped.

My arms are moving. Then so are my legs. Feet connecting with something.

Smack. Smack. Smack.

The weight is gone. I crawl. My hand closes around something smooth and cylindrical. A small baseball bat.

A hand grabs my ankle. I roll and swing.

Then I'm standing, with unsteady legs.

I swing again. More red liquid.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Crack. Thump. Thump. Crack.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Crack. Crack.

I'm sitting on the floor. A red stick is held out in front of me, in a hand that feels like mine. I don't know what it is. There's a big lump of red on the floor in front of me. I don't know what it is. Everything is so still. I can hear a beating in my ears. I don't know where it's coming from. It's like an echo. Thump. Crack. Thump. Crack. Thump. Thump. Crack. I don't know what it is.

All I know is that I have to protect.

Then there's a big man at the door, wearing a black suit. He has dark hair. His eyes are wide.

"_Shit! Holy shit!"_

Behind him is a small woman. With brown hair and blue eyes.

And then behind her is a teenage boy. Tall. Copper hair. Blue eyes, like the woman. There's a cast on his arm. Is he hurt?

Protect. Protect. Protect.

The woman speaks. It is not her voice.

"Sophie, wake up"

Who is Sophie?

Suddenly I'm in a white room. Glass bottle in my hand. It's too bright in here. It gives me a headache. Pills. It's too hot. I feel sticky. Bath. Cold water. Swimming. Can't breathe.

Protect. Protect. Protect.

A man. Shouting. Hazel eyes. Pulling me up. I can breathe again.

Papa.

"Sophie, wake up", he says.

Who is Sophie?

"_Thump. Thump. Crack."_

We're in a car park. There's trees. And a yellow building. Papa looks sad. I don't want him to be sad. That's why I'm here. There's a sign:

GOOD SAMARITAN.

Light blue walls. Long hallways. Hospital.

A bedroom, with a table in the corner.

Waiting on a sofa.

A middle aged woman sits beside me. She turns to me and says:

"Sophie, please baby, wake up."

There's a nurse in front of me, holding out a cup of pills.

I wanted to ask her who Sophie is. But she says:

"Wake up Sophie!"

She's no longer a nurse. She's got dull blonde hair and pale green eyes.

It's my mother, she looks disappointed. Disappointed with me. She shakes her head and says:

"_The henchman"._

She walks away from me. I can only see the back of her. I want her to come back. But she walks and keeps walking.

Then everything shakes, and breaks up, as I hear:

"SOPHIE WAKE UP!"

I feel my body being shaken. Two hands gripping my forearms. The voice is Teddy's voice. There's a high pitched wailing. The baby. And then there's another screaming. My throat is straining. It is my screaming. I open my eyes.

My clothes are sticking to me. It's so hot. Teddy is hovering over me. His powder blue eyes are fearful.

My screaming is replaced with heavy breathing as I remember where I am.

I'm in bed. In the apartment at Tower 801. I woke three weeks ago in hospital because of a car crash. I found out I'm married to Theodore Grey, with a kid. I don't remember 10 years of my life. But I just had a dream that showed me a few crucial memories - a flashback. It is what everyone was hiding from me. But most importantly, I remember who the people from my dream were talking about. It was me. I am Sophie.

Teddy climbs off the bed quickly. And goes to the crib in the corner. I sit there panting, struggling for air. Teddy picks up the wailing child and pats her back, desperately trying to calm her. He shushes her.

"It's okay," I can hear him say. "Mommy and daddy are here. You're okay." He repeats it over and over until she falls back to sleep. He puts her back down. And comes back to me.

I still can't breathe properly. He sits in front of me, and pulls me closer to him. I end up leaning against him for support.

"I…" I try to speak. But it's so hard.

"Shush, it was just a bad dream."

He draws me closer to his chest, and wraps his arms around me. I don't want the physical contact – I _need _it. I need to hold onto something right here and right now. And it's Teddy who is here with me. So, I cling to him, clutching his t-shirt in my fists.

"No," I pant. "I remember him."

"What?"

"What happened to him?"

He must realize what I'm talking about, because I feel him stiffen against me.

"I'll tell you later", he says.

"No, now… What happened to him?"

"He's dead."

"I killed him?"

"He was a bad man".

"I killed him?"

"Yes"

"I beat him to death."

"He hurt a lot of people. He was going to hurt you. And my siblings."

"I took his life."

"It was worthless."

We stay in this position for a long time. I know I should let him go. But I can't. So instead I cling to him, ignoring the ache from straining my muscles. And for a while he does the one thing I want him to do: he just holds me.

"Who was he?" I ask, when my breathing eventually evens out.

"Not now, I'll tell you some other time."

"Please"

"No. That's enough for one night, Sophie."

"Just tell me his name," I beg. "Please. Please".

He sighs, then murmurs:

"Jack Hyde."


	10. Dark Doom, Honey, I Follow You

**A/N: A word of WARNING, there are quite a few sensitive topics in this chapter, including violence, attempted rape and psychological trauma.**

**Also, I'd just like so say I'm not a expert in psychology, law, or the Italian language. I had to do a lot of research into these. So, my apologies is some of this isn't correct.**

* * *

**Sophie**

I am in pain. And Teddy stays with me - all night. He lies awake with me on the bed. I am tucked into him - my back is against his chest, his arms wrapped around me, my hands in his.

He wanted to get up to call my dad. Or Dr Flynn. But I wouldn't let him leave me alone. Not for one second. I need an anchor, something steady and sturdy - and here he is. But it isn't just the physical contact that keeps me assured - it is his voice too. His voice is low, and rumbles in his chest. Every word from his mouth is strong and certain. It's all I ask for right now.

So he stays with me and keeps talking. I concentrate on his voice. And he tells me what I want to know. He tells me a story from a different time.

It's about a young girl whose life seems to be going swimmingly well. She graduated college, and quickly lands herself a job at a publishing company, and is also being courted by a charming businessman. But her boss– a jealous, villainous mongrel– saw her beauty and wanted her for himself. So, one evening in the office kitchen he tried to lure her to him. But the young girl, being learned in the art of self-defence, managed to escape from the villain's evil clutches. The young girl and her gentleman married, and for a while all was well.

However, soon enough the evil boss was spotted trying to get near to the girl again, so that he could kidnap her and hold her for ransom. Nonetheless the businessman, with the help of his trusty bodyguards, was able to keep the evil man away from his wife. But you see, the evil boss was very clever, and knowing the importance of family to the young girl, he kidnapped her sister, and held her ransom instead, for a large amount of money. The girl, with a gentle and selfless heart, went after the evil man, and being educated in the use of firearms, managed to save her sister, by shooting the evil man in the leg. The evil man was then taken and imprisoned. It was later discovered that he had been blackmailing a number of his assistants, with videotapes that were recorded without their knowledge.

Then Teddy told me that the evil villain's name was Jack Hyde. The powerful businessman was his father – Mr Grey. And the young girl was his mother - Anastasia. And they lived in peace after that. They had four children. Anastasia took over Grey Publishing – formerly SIP – with ease. Grey Enterprise Holding just kept growing and growing. And things were running pretty damn smoothly.

Until about 16 years later. It was the 16th January 2027. It was a Saturday, and Teddy had broken his arm, so Ana had taken him to the hospital. Meanwhile, something had come up and Mr Grey was called in to work for a meeting at GEH. So I was watching the kids that day. I was 22, Phoebe was 12, Seth was 10, and Isabella just 4.

Seth wanted to play baseball, despite the cold and wet weather, so we spent a few hours at the park. It was getting a little too cold to play properly, so I called Mr Grey to let him know I was taking the kids home. However, he had finished his meeting and just had just a few more things to deal with - then, he said he wanted to talk to me about something important, and for some strange reason, he wanted to talk about it over dinner, with his kids and wife there too. So he suggested I take the kids to his old apartment at Escala - which seemed like the easiest and most hassle-free option - and he'd meet us there when he was done, then we'd all go to dinner. He gave me the access codes to the penthouse and we headed straight over.

When we got inside we put our stuff down in the living area - that was when Ana called and said she and Teddy were on their way. We were all a little hungry, so we quickly scoured the kitchen for a snack. We found some cookies and munched on a few of those - careful not to spoil our dinner.

Then we heard a crash upstairs – like breaking glass. We all froze and stayed silent and listened carefully for a couple of seconds, before we hear a loud bang. Then I told them to get up, stay quiet and move quickly. I picked up Iz and we ran to my father's office because I knew there was a panic room there. We got inside and locked the door.

The line of monitors, that were supposed to show feeds from security cameras around the house, were down. I knew it was closed-circuit, so it must be because the room is only checked a couple times a year, because no one lives here full-time. However, the phone line was working, so I called the police, who said they were sending someone over.

We sat there for a few minutes before I wondered how the police were going to get into the penthouse. And then I realised that it is highly probable that Ana and Teddy would get here before them. I _had_ to warn them. I tried the phone, but noticed that even if I knew Ana's number by heart – or even Teddy's or Sawyer's – it wouldn't matter because the phone could only be used for emergency call numbers.

Phoebe, like most kids her age, was _always _on her phone, especially today because she was bored, in the cold, at the park. But her phone had run out of battery earlier that day – she didn't have her power cord with her. Seth had left his phone in his backpack. And Iz was only 4 so she didn't have one yet. And as for mine, I remembered I had put it down on the table after Ana called... and forgotten to put it back in my pocket.

I knew Sawyer was with Ana. I figured if Sawyer parked the car first, and then they all come upstairs together, they might be okay. But I also figured, that because Ana had Teddy with her, and Sawyer knows the rest of us are here, he'd probably let them out of the car, and _then _park whilst they're on their way up. I didn't know if the intruder was a man or woman, how many of them there were, if they were armed or not, or if Ana or Teddy would be able to fight them off. To be honest, I didn't even know if there was anyone here at all, it was a crash and bang, it might have been a cat that got in - I didn't know how, but it might have been possible. Better to be safe than sorry.

I contemplated a lot of things, but at the same time I wasn't really thinking at all. The main thing on my mind was to protect. Keep Phoebe, Seth and Isabella safe. Warn Sawyer, Ana and Teddy. _Protect._

I was useless to Ana inside the panic room – blind and mute. All I had to do was grab my phone from the table, and run back into the room with it. So I put Phoebe in charge. She'd be able to see who's behind the panic room door, through the peep hole. I told her to lock the door behind me, be alert, and no matter what happens do not open the door, for anyone but family, or a member of security, or myself. Then I left the room and it locked behind me.

I cracked the door of my father's office, and peeked around the corner. The hallway was clear, and what I could see of the great room as well. I ran on the balls of my feet - silent and quick. But it didn't matter, because about halfway to the table my ringtone broke the silence. I made a mad dash for it, but as I reached it, a man appeared from the kitchen. He had dark blue, almost black, eyes, and long, red, dirty hair hung off his head in clumps. I froze in fear, we stood staring at each other, it felt like forever but it couldn't have been for more than a second or two, because my phone was still ringing.

"The henchman," he mutters. "It has to be. She looks just like him".

My fingers knew what buttons to press on my phone – the answer button – without looking. I heard a tiny "hello?" come from my phone. The phone was in my hand at my side, not near my face, so I press the loudspeaker option. I knew as soon as I spoke the intruder would react, so I rushed out the words:

"Don't come up here without Sawyer!"

Then the man ran, jumped onto the table and leapt at me. We both toppled to the floor. The stench of him burned in my nose. My scream was cut short by his whole weight on my chest, which made it hard to breathe. My phone fell from my hand and landed in pieces beside me.

"The henchman", the man said. "That motherfucker will get it too. Yeah – get what's coming to him… She's pretty."

In the back of my head I knew what I would have done if my head was cleared of shock. His fist came down and hit my cheek. Then my eye. Then again on my jaw. I could taste the blood as it escaped my lips.

My shirt was in his fists. First I could hear the material tearing. Then I felt his hands on me. He painfully squeezed as he groped at my chest. And it wasn't until that moment that I snapped. Something inside me changed. The cold shock and fear was chased away with red raging heat.

I jabbed two fingers downwards into the small hollow area at the base of his throat. The harder he tried to press down on me the more he choked himself. So he leaned back at little, enough for me to throw my arms straight out in front of me, my hands gripped his shoulders as he leans in again. I kept my elbows locked to hold him off me, as I slid out from under him, and freed my legs for movement. Then I kicked them upwards. My feet crashing into his chest and he fell away from me. I rolled and tried to get up to run, but I was heavy and sluggish. My vision was blurry and I was still in a lot of pain. I could only crawl to the U-shaped white sofa, before he had a firm grip on my ankle again.

At that point I panicked. I saw Seth's kid-sized baseball bat, and I grabbed it. I rolled onto my back and swung the bat around and hit his wrist. He let go of me. I scrambled up. But he just wouldn't stop coming after me. I wasn't completely sure if he if he was going to rape me or kill me – but then I realised it was probably both. He was injured but it didn't look like he was slowing down or stopping – like the pain didn't affect him at all. I managed to get to my feet somehow, and I hit him when he reached for me again. I must have figured that he was desperate because he wouldn't stop coming at me.

It is unclear as to what happened between then, and when Ana and Teddy got there. But it was apparent that I had beaten him to death.

"When we got there Sawyer told us to stay downstairs," Teddy says. "He ran to the apartment. But my mom was too concerned to listen to him. She told me to wait in the car. But, as you know, I am too stubborn, and I refused to just stand there waiting.

"We found you sitting on the floor, covered in blood –yours and his. Holding the bloodied baseball bat out in front of you. Your jeans were ripped. Your shirt was in shreds stuck to your wet skin. You were staring straight ahead, towards the foyer, like you were waiting for a threat to come through the door. Jack Hyde was slumped on the floor in front of you. Covered in blood and bruises. And dead.

"My mother ran around the house looking for my siblings. She found them safe and unharmed in the panic room. But I couldn't take my eyes off you. You were hardly blinking. Just staring. You could see us but you just weren't reacting. You didn't say anything, it was like something out of a horror movie. It wasn't until Sawyer tried to get you away from the body that you reacted; you hit him with the bat – only once because he backed off immediately. You could see us, you acknowledged there were people with you. But you just didn't know who we were.

"It wasn't until our fathers got there. I half expected Taylor to be his usual calm and controlled self, but he was a mad man. He was demanding to know what happened, and how. He was shouting. The whole thing was terrifying. It was actually my father who seemed the most level headed. He wasn't mad at your dad; he would probably be worse if it was one of his children. But he basically told your dad to get a grip. And so Taylor sat down beside you. And very quietly started talking quietly to you in Italian. I think he was singing to you at one point. I never seen him like that before - it was so out of character, but you seemed to realise who he was. And you let him pry the bat from your hands. You seemed a little more aware after that. But you wouldn't react to anyone else but your dad."

Teddy goes on to tell me how the police arrived. The body was bagged, everyone was interviewed. I was cleaned up and taken to hospital. My wounds were treated. The detectives tried to ask me questions but I wouldn't answer. They called in a psychologist, who said my behaviour was a passive reaction to a traumatic experience. The police explained that a few days before, Jack Hyde had made an escape from prison that should never have been possible – he crawled through a ventilation duct, onto the roof, then down the side of the building - all without being see until he was gone. Authorities failed to notify the family about the escape.

Teddy explains that most of what he's telling me now is what I had said in court when they held a trial. A trial, because whilst everyone around me claimed it was self-defence, the court believed there was more too it. They wanted the matter dealt with immediately; they didn't want me – a possibly dangerous person of interest – just wandering around on the street. However, the trial didn't happen until several months after the incident.

The psychologist, who was at the police station that evening, explained that I was most likely suffering of acute stress disorder. And the symptoms could last between 2 days or up to a month. And until then it wouldn't be very useful to try and get information out of me. My father and step-mom took me home with them.

Everyone patiently waited for me to come out of my stupor. I wasn't sleeping or eating much. I stopped reading and watching movies or television. I helped Gail a little bit with the housework. I wasn't speaking at all. That was when I first met Doctor Flynn, he tried to get me talking again, but with no success.

Then one day, about 2 weeks after the incident, my father found me in a bathtub full of water, fully clothed, drunk, and having taken 13 aspirin tablets. That's when I spoke for the first time:

"Thump. Thump. Crack", I had said.

My dad got me to throw up in the car speeding to the hospital. The doctors said that it was a lucky thing my father found me when he did, because there wasn't much damaged to my liver, kidneys or stomach.

"A short while later," Teddy says. "You were admitted to Good Samaritan Behavioural Health, in Puyallup. We wanted you to be outside Seattle so you wouldn't have to forever associate rehab with home. But close enough to the family, so we could visit. Good Samaritan was the best option for us. You're 23 birthday came and went. It took a long while, but you started to feel things again. You weren't speaking but you were reading a lot of books, journals and magazines about global finance and business – that was pretty much what you did, all day, every day, for two months. Then you started art therapy, and reacted well to that. You were stabilising more and more each day. Then in July you were speaking, only a few words, at first. But by August we could hardly get you to shut up. You talked _and talked _about finance, most of us weren't able to keep up but we let you go on and on.

"In September, they thought you were well enough to go home. So you did. You were living with Penelope before the incident, but you moved back in with your parents. You started regular meetings with Dr Flynn, and you were improving more and more. The trial was set for the 1st of October. Everyone thought it was too soon, but the court insisted. Dr Flynn thought you could do it, and perhaps having the case closed would help you.

"So we all went to the trial. You pleaded not guilty, with the defence of diminished responsibly. There was a long discussion about posttraumatic stress disorder. You gave your story. My siblings gave their stories as well, but having been locked in a room, without surveillance, they didn't have much to say – only how you had protected them. Then my mother, Sawyer and I were asked to tell the court what we found when we got there. We all agreed that it was self-defence and the defence of others.

"Self-defence is defined as using an _appropriate amount of force _to protect oneself against incoming threats. But the court wondered if there was ever at some point, having already called the police and warned my mother, when you could have gotten away to safety, perhaps locked yourself in another room, that way everyone would have been safely away from Jack Hyde, and the police could have come. It was hard to tell because of those few moments during the event that you blanked out, those few moments during which Jack Hyde died. They called that emotion-induced forgetting.

"Eventually they decided the answer was probably: yes, at one point of another you could have run away, and Jack Hyde would be alive today to answer for his crimes. Some people at court argued that you were violent and had maliciously beaten Hyde with more force than necessary, leading to his death, and continued to beat him after he was death. But there were a lot of people who argued that that theory was a load of bullshit. Especially my mother - she was ferocious.

"They talked to her again, about what happened with Jack in the past - she showed the court how much of jealous scumbag Hyde really was. And a lot of what she said helped your case. Then they gave statements of officers from the prison he escaped from, and the psychiatrist he spoke with there, who told us about how he became increasingly unstable.

"Then there was a lot of Dr Flynn explaining things like Automatism, which is when the defendant isn't aware their actions - which explains why you kept hitting Hyde even when he was already dead. Your attorney explained Competence - which further argued that you weren't wholly understanding your own actions, how it is unlikely that you knew what you were doing at that point. How in a panic, you had beaten your attacker to death. How if you truly registered what you were doing then you would have stopped hitting him before you killed him.

"Everyone who testified for you explained that you were a gentle person. All you wanted to do was protect the people around you. You were responsible for three minors that day. And all three minors - as well as Sawyer, my mother, and I - were safe and unharmed – because of you… Well, except that one hit you gave to Sawyer.

"There were a lot of 'what ifs'. What if I hadn't broken my hand that day? What if my dad didn't have a meeting? What if he told you take my siblings straight home? What if Seth didn't insist on going out to the park? What if Phoebe didn't run down her cell battery? What if Taylor had made the panic room checks more frequently? What if you hadn't left your phone on the table? What if someone had fucking told us about Jack Hyde's escape from prison, when it happened?

"In the end none of the 'what ifs' truly mattered because they were just scenarios that never happened. Finally, there was enough reason to believe that Jack Hyde's death was not consciously intended, and you shouldn't be held responsible for it due to your mental state. We won the case - they ruled it as diminished responsibility."

Teddy tells me that Dr Flynn had no objections to me going to work. He said it might actually do more good than harm, because it seemed to be the only thing I was interested in, just as long as I went easy. By this time Techo had already shutdown-it was a quick collapse after I left. So l started working for Mr Grey at GEH. I moved into Tower 801. And I got better.

Of course I hardly ever watched movies - more specifically anything that contained violence. I didn't even want to watch _Game of Thrones _reruns - which were my favourite. I gave up one of my favourite hobbies: archery. I never did any other target practise. And I never played any sport that had a racket or bat. But I was okay.

This is what everyone has been protecting me from. It is why my family insisted I didn't go to rehab – because I had been in a similar environment once before, and it might have triggered some memories. It is why Penelope said I was 'resting' for those nine months – because technically I was. It is why I wasn't in the picture with the other kids, that year. It is why Mr Grey had wanted me to have the wall to paint on – to continue my therapeutic artwork. It is probably how we started our 'friendship' – talking about business and finance when I was at Good Samaritan. It is also probably why I work for him – no other company would want someone unstable, Mr Grey probably felt sorry for me. It is why I have Cooper as a bodyguard – because I am a danger to myself. It is why I have been talking to Dr Flynn for years – because I am broken.

My family were right: I was not ready to hear it. But I asked Teddy for the story because I couldn't bear to know what happened, but still have so many gaps in my knowledge.

It is too much. Too much for me to handle. For _anyone_ to handle.

I can understand why I stopped talking back then; I don't know if I am able to form words or make any other sound than screeches and screams.

But I try. I force words – any words - from my chest to my throat and then up and out of my mouth.

"Raccontami una storia diversa," I say.

"I don't understand that much Italian," Teddy says gently.

"Tell me a different story."

I turn in his arms so I'm facing him and bury my face in the crook of his neck.

"Please," I say.

"You know what's kind of funny?" he says. "Most of the ten years that you don't remember, is when I was over the infatuation I had with you. I was about 14 when I wholly accepted that what I had was a childish crush for the first girl in my life who wasn't family. You were 8 years older than me and moving forward so quickly, becoming a real adult, whilst I was stuck as a kid. You were always working and I really didn't care much about anything. And I realised that I only liked you when there wasn't some other girl that I liked. Then Jack Hyde happened and I was sure there was no way that I could help you - I even _hoped _that you'd find someone who could. Someone who's mature and knows what to do - so that you'd be happy again. I stopped harassing you about dating me. And I went and did what normal teens do: got myself a real girlfriend, went to loads of parties, and discovered that I wanted to write novels.

"But you were still there to show me that I wasn't dumb – that I just have a creative mind that sees things differently to others. During my college years, I was at Seattle U - and we'd go out together to bars and clubs. You'd buy my drinks, and actually help me pick up girls, and drive my drunken ass home when necessary. You were a great friend to me.

"It was the last couple of months of college, the day before my 21st birthday, I was at my parents' house and clearing out things I didn't need from my old room. And I was sorting through my old books and a piece of paper fell out from one of them. It was the contract I wrote. I actually had completely forgotten about it. You'd consider dating me when I turned 21. I would turn 21 the next day. Usually I'm not superstitious but I figured that was one hell of a coincidence. But I shrugged it off.

"I have something to confess to you - something I haven't told you before: as I continued to go through all my old things I started to remember what it was like being a little boy, and wanting so bad to go on a date with you. I'm sure it would have been on my bucket list, if I even knew what a bucket list was. But the idea was planted in my head and as time passed minute by minute, I became obsessed with the idea of having the chance of crossing it off my list, so to say.

"So the day I spent nagging you – my 21st birthday – I told you we'd be great together, we could really build a relationship so magnificent everyone would be jealous. As much as I might have believed that in the past, I didn't believe it then – not for one second. But I told you this stuff to just get one date with you. _Just one. _It was selfish - wanting to date you just so that I could say that I had. And it still doesn't entirely make any sense now. But I got that date with you.

"And it was _fun. _It didn't feel weird at all. It was strangely normal actually. It was us being us, just dressed up, in fancy restaurant. We talked, and that night I learnt about your Italian decent, about your grandparents and great-grandparents. I even learnt some things about your father I never thought I'd even want to know. It was a nice evening. And by some miracle, you thought the same way. That was the first day I fell in love with you. The next day I fell a little harder - the day after that, even harder. Before we knew it, we were married and had a beautiful daughter... Anything can happen.

"In my earliest memories of you, I see you walking through the meadow by my parent's house. You weren't behind me, or in front of me. You were beside me. Yet still I was following you. I would have followed you everywhere and anywhere. And I will follow you through this. If you let me."

I give him only a one word response. The only word I can bring myself to say when he is wrapped me, comforting me at 3am:

"Maybe."


	11. Giants Can Be Good

**Sophie**

"Have you breastfed Anouk yet?" Dr Flynn asks. I shake my head.

After last night's talk, Teddy fell asleep beside me. I wanted to join him, but there were too many thoughts swirling around my head. So I settled for just watching him, remembering when I watched him when I first woke up from my coma, and how beautiful he and the baby were. Since then I have learnt so much of the changes in my life, but the pair are still just as beautiful as the first time I saw them.

The baby woke up not long after Teddy fell asleep. I felt bad for keeping him awake, so I decided to let him sleep until he woke up naturally.

I picked her up and changed her heavy diaper, before giving her a bottle, then burping her (and forgetting the need for a burp cloth). Then I tucked her back in, it took a long time but she eventually went back to sleep.

I changed my t-shirt, and got back into bed beside Teddy. A few hours later she was hungry again, Teddy woke up and found us having breakfast in the kitchen. He called my father, and Dr. Flynn, and managed to reschedule our meeting with the detectives.

My dad and Gail arrived and started fussing over me. I managed to get an appointment with Dr Flynn for the early afternoon, so we were just waiting around for the time to roll passed. I hadn't said anything since last night. Not because I couldn't, but just because the only thing I wanted to do was talk to Flynn. That, and play with the baby; she's just so soft and warm and cuddly.

Then Ana and Phoebe arrived. They mostly spoke to Teddy about what happened, because I wasn't saying anything. I just sat on the couch, clutched my father's hand and stared right ahead of me. I wanted to clear my mind for when I got to talk to Flynn. But then I could slowly feel myself slipping into a gaping chasm, filled with only darkness and what Teddy told me of the condition I was in before. So I clutched my father's hand harder – it helped but only a little bit.

It wasn't until Phoebe had said 'Sophie? It's me Phoebe' that I realised that she had come and sat right in front of me. My eyes snapped her power blue ones. I think she could see through me – see that I was slowly falling off the edge.

'Thank you for saving me and my siblings'. It was all she said before she got up and left me. It was all she needed to say to pull me back – not all the way, but enough.

"Sophie," Dr Flynn calls my attention back to him. "Are you going to talk today?"

"Yes," I mutter.

He pauses and purses his lips for a moment.

"Do you ever plan on breastfeeding Anouk?" he asks. Flynn is really keen on me breastfeeding, because he thinks it'll help me bond with her. But I'm still unsure.

"Maybe."

"So, how are you and Teddy?"

I swear I get asked that every day - maybe even twice a day.

"Fine. Why are you avoiding the main topic?"

"What is the main topic, Sophie?"

"What happened with him – with Hyde."

"Is that what you would like to talk about?"

"Isn't that why we're here?"

"We can talk about anything you'd like to talk about."

I pause for a moment.

"I want to talk about the time I spent at Good Samaritan"

"Okay"

"Teddy said I did art therapy there."

"Yes…"

"Why? I've never been good at art – I don't have one creative bone in my body"

"Why should that stop you from doing art? It's fun and childish. And when you don't have words, pictures might be the only way to express yourself. You even continued on when you got talking again, to express the things you didn't want to put into words - although, your art could be quite cryptic sometimes. Most of your talking didn't really reveal your thoughts and feelings - in fact, after you started talking again it was hard to get you to stop - you would babble on and on about nothing in particular. It was as if you were saying every mundane thought that popped into the front of your mind at that very moment - many of your friends found it quite amusing, because you often ended up insulting people, without really meaning to. Eventually, you got your filter back, a couple of months after starting back at work. But like I said, you never really expressed how you felt about your experience."

I purse my lips for a moment. I feel a little embarrassed, that I would have said aloud what most people keep to themselves. I bring the subject back to art.

"So art was really just a way to express myself?"

"Yes - it came to be. You drew pictures of random things at first like trees, flowers, animals, food – you were trying to find subject. But then very quickly moved on to people and places, there were many of your parents, especially your mother."

"Olivia? Why of Olivia?"

"The day I asked you that, was when you started talking again. You said you missed your mother. She had visited you once during your first few days at the behavioural centre – it didn't go well, especially because you weren't talking. I asked if you wanted to see her again. You said you didn't know where she was. You insisted that she wasn't in New York. You said that you're mommy isn't anywhere anymore. You seem to do that a lot – separate different aspects of a person into different people completely, you even give them names. Like 'mommy' and 'Olivia', and 'playful Teddy' and 'old-soul Theodore', there are many more. Many people do that-usually not as much as you did; it helped you to control your behavioural responses to different situations."

"Did I ever do that with my own personality?"

"No," he says. "You did something slightly different… I have a feeling you know what I'm talking about – is the voice back, Sophie?"

I purse my lips.

_He can already tell that I am, dummy. No point in hiding it now._

I nod. "She's not new then?"

"Of course not, Sophie. It's always been there."

"You don't seem very concerned that I'm hearing voices."

"No," he laughs. "You're not hearing voices; it's your voice, is it not?"

"Well yes. I know she's me. Sometimes she'll word something that's lingering in the back of my head. I just think that she doesn't seem like me – like a different personality or something… But she's still me… That probably doesn't make any sense."

"It does once you get your head around it. It's really just a different side of you. You consider yourself an introvert, yes? Well, some believe that everyone has both an extroverted and introverted side. Just one is more dominant that the other. In your case your introverted side is more dominant. And this so called _voice _in your head is just you extroverted side."

_I think I'm more a 'voice of reason',_she cuts in.

"Let's have a theoretical situation: You're friends invite you out to dinner, you're not feeling completely up to it, but haven't seen them in a while. What's the first thing you do?"

"Weigh up an argument."

"Yes! One side says..?"

"Stay home if you're not feeling up to it."

"And the other?"

"Just go"

"Whilst you argue both sides, it's almost as if you have two voices in your head, isn't it? It's the same voice, but the tone is different. And both might be referring to yourself in third person. Like usually when someone's about to do something, sometimes they need to give themselves a little pep-talk in there head – very often they won't say 'I' or 'me', they'll say their name instead. Sophie, it's all you. You're just very aware of the difference between the two sides of you.

"The first time you told me you were _'hearing voices'_you were in rehabilitation. Your mind was very fragile at that time – sensitive to confusion, disorientation and mood swings.

"Separating the introvert personality from the extrovert personality made it easy to go about your daily business; having a more assertive personality telling you what to do. It's really as if you were ordering yourself about. However, I think perhaps referring to yourself in third person really confused you and made you think it was a completely separate voice, and you forgot that it was just you talking to yourself."

"So I don't have a Dissociative Identity Disorder or anything?"

"No," he says. "Unless you've ever experienced several hours of black outs, to wake up to realise you've done something that you don't remember doing."

"No that's not happened."

"Patients with DID, more commonly known as split personality disorder, have a two or more personalities that alternate in taking control of the persons behaviour."

"But the other day she was saying something in my head, and then I started talking to Teddy. And then what she was saying came out of my mouth. Isn't that something taking control?"

"I don't think so. When did you start hearing her as a separate idea?"

"When I was in hospital – the first time I spoke to Teddy."

"And what was happening this time you're speaking of?"

"When I went home with him from the hospital, we were having dinner. We were talking about having dinner with his family. Teddy had asked me a question. The baby was fussing with her bottle – the voice was saying that she doesn't like the bottle and she wants to be breastfed. Then I went to answer Teddy, but I said something about the baby being breastfed."

"Well I suspect that would be because Teddy was talking about one thing that might cause stress. And then you were distracted and thinking about another thing that stresses you out. Ever had so many things on your mind that you simply couldn't concentrate on one of them?"

I nod.

"Well it's the same case, except you just happened to say what was going through your head aloud."

"It's it quite dangerous to have this distinction here? Could it develop into something more… I don't know?"

"I'm not going to say that won't ever happen – anything can happen. But honestly, I don't believe that it will. I think as long as you always know, that it's your voice, and your thoughts – I think you're strong enough to always believe that. And, in the past the distinction has reduced to almost not there at all. Especially in the last two years."

"How?"

"It is my belief that you started to find some middle ground between being an introvert and extrovert. Plus, you weren't relying too much on the extrovert side to boss you around anymore."

I sit there and ponder for a while.

"She was quiet last night," I say eventually.

"I can't imagine she'd have a lot to say," he says.

"No," I agree. "She is fierce – I don't think that part of me questions what happened with Jack much."

"What about the other part?"

I think about it some more.

"I just want to know how to stop feeling like this."

"How do you feel, Sophie?"

"Terrified. Disappointed. Like none of this is real. But I still feel myself hanging from a cliff, from my fingernails. I only remember flashes – images – of what happened. Teddy explained everything to me last night. I don't want to be in the same state I was in the first time."

"I believe if you really don't want to, then you won't – you'll find a way to deal with it."

"How did I do it the first time? Get over what happened, I mean."

"The thing is," he sighs. "You didn't. You never dug deep into what happened that day. You didn't analyse yourself or the situation. For those few moments that you blanked out for - when he actually died – you never looked into that. You always said it's hazy and you don't remember. All memories exist somewhere, and I sincerely believe that if you really wanted to you could have sat down and had a real think about it, you could probably figure out – remember, even – what _exactly_was going through your head at that point. But you never did that and I think that made it impossible for you to entirely overcome whatever feelings you had about it."

Over my teen years I developed – and I'm sure everyone, who knows me well, will agree – a nasty habit. A horrible flaw. When a situation is _too_ much, _too_ big or _too_ stressful I often push it to the side. I don't think about it as much as I can. I'll do something else to take my mind off of it. I don't deal with it - I cope with it.

I guess in this case, I focused on my career.

"Any advice?" I ask.

"I suggest you use your amnesia to your advantages."

"Huh?"

"Not many people get another go at doing things - perhaps in a better more effective way. Not like this anyway. You do. See your memory loss as a blessing instead of a burden."

I can understand what he's saying – I didn't recover properly the first time. Now I can do it again.

"For now," he continues, "you're staying with Theodore and Anouk, yes? Well, I think it's best if you re-accommodate elsewhere for some time."

"What?! Why?" I screech, sitting up straight.

"I don't think you're a danger to them, but it'll be better for you if you put a small distance between you. You won't feel so pressured… Where are you going?"

I've already stomped my way to the door of his office, and I fling it open.

"Teddy!" I call.

He has been waiting just outside the door during the whole meeting, so he's beside me in an instant, and my father is behind him.

"Tell him!" I demand, when they get inside the office. I point an accusing finger at Flynn, who's still sitting on the sofas.

Everyone looks at me confused. I sigh heavily.

"He says I shouldn't stay in the apartment any more… He wants me to stay in a hotel!"

"That's not what I - "

"Why can't she stay with me?" Teddy asks.

"All I'm saying is that it'll be better for Sophie to be in a calm environment, away from husband and baby, for a while. Just until she's fully come to terms with that happened."

"How will the baby feed?" I ask. "Nobody has the time to go back and forth to deliver milk."

"Formula," Flynn shrugs.

"She doesn't even like her bottle. How is she going to cope with formula?"

"She'll drink it if she has to. She'll be fine."

"I thought you wanted me to breastfeed her?"

"I do – but even if it's just once. I just want you to try it and see how it goes. But you don't have to be living there to do that."

"And Teddy is supposed to care for her by himself?"

"Many single parents cope just fine."

"But I'm _not_a single parent," Teddy snaps.

"Right now, you're going to have to act as one."

"So, you're saying Sophie is unfit to care for Anouk?" my father asks.

"Not at all," Flynn explains. "She's great with Anouk. But, Sophie's stressed, she has been for weeks now. She's going to be even more agitated coming to terms with what happened with Jack. What if Sophie's not sleeping properly, and she irritable and then Anouk starts crying? Crying because she's hungry, she needs changing, or she just wants attention, during the day, during the night. Sophie, you can't deal with everything all in one go – you can only go one step at a time. If you wanted to, you could go to see Anouk and Teddy for hours and hours each day. I just think you shouldn't be with them _constantly."_

"I want her with me," Teddy grumbles. "How am I supposed to…"

"Ted, as important your relationship is," Flynn says. "Right now the most out important thing is to do what's best for Sophie – so that she can handle her situation in a calm environment. It'll be just like she's going on a retreat."

Teddy lets out something between a heavily sigh and a growl.

"Fine," he snaps. "But don't go getting any ideas about an _actual_retreat."

"I don't want to stay at a hotel," I mutter.

"No," my dad says. "You coming home with me."


	12. If There Only Were Doors

**Phoebe**

Ted was grumpy by the time they got back. Mom, Gail and I had stayed at the apartment to watch Anouk, and I thought I'd do my brother a favour and neaten things up a bit, since the apartment wasn't in its usual immaculate state. I don't think I ever realised how much they needed to move until I was attacked by a falling pile of towels when I opened their wardrobe. I tried my best to tidy the clothes in there, and I'm glad I did because now my job is a lot easier, as I pack a small suitcase of clothes for Sophie.

She was supposed to be doing it for herself but all she seemed to want to do is sit on the bed and play with Anouk. I don't mind really, it's nice to watch her make embarrassing cooing noises at her child - it's amusing even. It's funny how fierce people can turn gooey for children. It's even more amusing when Uncle Taylor or my dad does it.

"This one," I ask, holding up the t-shirt. "I found it buried under all your other t-shirts."

She pauses in the middle of nuzzling Anouk's cheek. She took one look at the t-shirt and her face comically turned into an expression of mock horror.

"What the _hell_ is that?!"

I laugh and take another glance at the white t-shirt with an old picture of her and Ted, printed on the front, and the word "COUGAR" running across the bottom. In the picture Ted is about 18 and she's about 26, I think it was someone's birthday party – I don't remember whose. It looks like someone just snapped a picture of them, because they both look rather shocked. It's not the best picture Brandon could have picked; they don't look like a couple – because they weren't at that time - they just look like good friends. But it's funny.

"A gift from Brandon. An engagement gift. He had it specially made."

"I take it Brandon is still the family joker."

"Like father, like son. He has a lot of his father's qualities."

"I think I'm ready to see all of them. Brandon, Ava, the twins, the whole gang," she says.

I fold the t-shirt, roll it tightly, and tuck it into her case.

"Grandma Grace's birthday is coming up soon. They'll probably be a family get-together. So you can see them then."

Sophie goes back to bouncing Anouk. I hear a quiet cough, I look up to find Teddy hiding in the corridor. He puts a finger to his lips, and signals for me to go to him.

"I'll be right back," I mutter to Sophie, then follow Ted to the kitchen. "Yes?"

"Has she said anything?" he speaks quietly, so mom, Gail and Taylor don't hear us. He looks nervous.

"About?"

"Anything to do with…" he gestures in the air, to signal for anything to do with her situation.

"She asked me about what I know about her after _that day,_" I say.

"And?"

"And I said that I remember how she behaved and that she was very upset. But not much else because our parents always tried to distance us from the situation as much as possible – none of us really know that much… Except for you who butts yourself into everything," I smirk.

"Anything else? ... About me?"

I sigh heavily. I know what he's thinking about. He told me he talked to her about their relationship after dinner last night. And now they'll not be living together he probably thinks it'll be harder to _rekindle._

"I know what you're getting at Ted. And I'll be your wingman like I was the first time. But don't you think you should wait a little? At least until she's come to terms with what happened with Hyde."

"Yes, I've contemplated that. But how long is that going to take? She hadn't fully come to terms with it before that accident and that was _8 years_ after it happened. What if it takes another 8 years and more to finally…?" He pauses, sighs heavily, and runs two hand through his messy hair, then he mutters: "I'd like to say that I'd wait that time for her, but…"

Then he doesn't say anything for a couple of seconds and I think he's gone off somewhere in his head. It surprises me that he said 'but'. I know that it's completely viable, because nobody should have to wait forever for someone else. If it was going to take another 8 years, then at some point before then Ted would realise that the best thing for him and Anouk is to move on from Sophie - not cut her out of their lives, but to just stop waiting and move forwards. But that's a distant point in the future. But it is not like him to admit to that now. He's usually one to say that he will so wholly commit to something until it is sorted or complete, no matter how long it takes, even if that's not entirely true. Knowing Ted so well and hearing him say 'but', makes him sound like he's doubting his own constancy so soon.

I sigh to myself. I'm probably over thinking things, as usual.

"If Sophie has a list," he continues, "of everything that she needs to _come to terms with_ since she woke up, I am on that list. And so is Anouk. But we are the_ only_ permanent fixtures on that list. Anouk is her daughter, and I am her daughter's father – she will always be linked to us, no matter what. It'll be easier on Sophie, to deal with the rest of the crap, if she has me and Anouk as _comfortable _fixtures by her side. I _know _I can help her _really _get over this, this time. I can help her – and you know it too, because you want the same thing, that's why you rushed over this morning. Last time we were too young and didn't really know what was happening with her – this time we do. This time we're here. I know she'll settle her conflicts with what happened that day – but only if she lets me in."

"Okay," I nod. "You have me convinced. What's your next step?"

"Last night she said maybe she'd give me a chance – but then again she was hysterical, and I don't know if she really meant it. So I need to find out if she did – and if she did then I'm going to start working on our relationship, as soon as possible. Also, I want to know what _exactly _she's struggling with this Hyde incident. I mean I get that she was traumatised by what he did, but I also know it's because of what she did, too. I just need to get her to explain it clearly to me."

"She never explained that to you?"

"No," he sighs. "I used to think it was okay to just not know things – but then it started to bother me eventually, that I never knew any of the '_deep_ stuff'. Then when I'd ask her, she never be able to tell me. And then we'd become frustrated with each other and argue."

"That's more serious than the way you make it sound," I tell him.

"I know," he sighs. "Believe me, I know."

"Okay, we'll go in there and try to bring it up without being too obvious."

When we get back to the bedroom Sophie is still playing with Anouk.

"Can I bring you with me?" she coos at the infant. "_Yes?_ Look, I can put you in my suitcase."

She puts Anouk down softly on top of the clothes in her case, and pretends to pack her. Anouk wiggles around and makes an '_aah' _sound – something like a squeal. She hasn't laughed properly yet, but that's the closest I've heard.

I look at Ted just from his facial expression anyone could tell how much he _adores _the both of them. I almost leave the room, feeling like I'm intruding – then I remember that I'm here for a reason.

I go over to the cupboard and pull out one of Sophie's sweaters and finish packing her case. Ted comes in a sits on the bed beside Sophie. He swoops Anouk up into his arms and covers her little face in kisses. Sophie shifts closer to them.

"So," Sophie says, in an overly light-hearted, casual way. "What were you two whispering about?"

We both freeze.

"Were you plotting against me?" she jokes - she's smiling slightly, so I know the fact that we were talking her doesn't bother her much.

Neither of us say anything. I look to Ted. He looks to me. She must have picked up on our guilty looks.

"Oh please," she says. "Everyone is whispering about me these days. And besides you weren't being very discreet."

She then makes an exaggerated coughing sound, puts a finger to her mouth and then beckons, as an impersonation of Ted. I laugh and shake my head.

"How did you even see that?" Ted asks disbelieved. "Does your vision bend around corners?"

"No Teddy," she sighs. "There's a mirror right there."

She points to the corner behind me, beside the doors to the balcony, where a full length mirror hangs on the wall. From where Sophie is sitting on the bed, she'd be able to see down the length of the corridor.

Ted looks as if he wants to kick himself, he must have forgotten. He sighs in resignation, and slumps a little like a child might do. Sophie laughs at him.

I don't know where this care-free mood as come from. This morning she was in a state of stupor, much she was 8 years ago. But she seemed just okay when she came back from her talk with Dr Flynn. Then when she asked me what I knew she sounded sombre and austere. Now she's all jokes and teasing. I can understand why she might have to stay somewhere else for a while, especially because her moods are flipping so easily.

"So," she says, interrupting my inner musings. "What were you just saying?"

"Whaa… well… urrr," Ted mumbles.

Ladies and gentleman, I present to you: Theodore Raymond Grey, combined degree in English Literature and Creative Writing, and aspiring writer.

I sigh, seeing that there's no fooling her, and trying to be subtle now just seems patronising - she already knows that she's a huge focus of many people right now, there's really no point in trying to hide things any more.

For a second Ted and I's matching blue eyes meet, and an understanding passes us - start with the lighter question... his question. My eyes flash to the door and back - asking him if I should leave them for a minute or two, he shakes his head slightly. So, to be a little less awkward to turn back to the cupboard, and fumble through clothes aimlessly.

"I don't want you to feel pressured," Ted says, "so if you don't want to talk about this right now I understand... Last night, before you had that dream, we talked about us and I asked you for a _'maybe'_, and later you gave me that 'maybe', but you-"

"Meant it" she interrupts. "I know I was quite hysterical last night, but I did mean it. I really do appreciate how everyone is letting thingsgo at my pace. And I understand why that's happening, but I also know that it's not just my life that has been disrupted. Since I woke up you've been with me _every day _and just talk to me about really random things, and making sure that I'm okay. That alone must mean that there's more to this... to _us _than my rather _cynical _theories. So I think I'm okay to say that you can have more that the _'maybe' _you asked for. _Yes. _Yes - when I'm ready, I'd like to give _us _a try."

Honestly, I'm so proud of Ted. I know how impatient and demanding he can sometimes be. But he's been so patient with Sophie and the whole situation. He deserves more that the 'maybe', I'm so glad Sophie gave him a yes. I have to restrain from doing a happy dance.

When I turn I can see Ted is trying to hide his grin from Sophie... with little success.

"Am I right to assume that there's something else as well, as you are here too Phoebe?" Sophie asks.

I nod and walk over to the door and push until it's just ajar - so that we might be able to hear the adults if they call, but so that the sound of our conversation doesn't travel.

"Ted and I," I say. "Well, they're something that we've been wondering, for a long while now. It's about… you know… Hyde"

Sophie doesn't say anything for five, ten, fifteen seconds, then:

"What is it?"

"Before, I said that we were distanced from what was happening with you, and whenever we asked anyone they said you were upset because you didn't mean to kill Hyde. I mean we know you were more than just _upset_. But I thought that maybe, that wasn't all of it. We just want to understand _exactly _what it was that caused you to spiral downwards."

So much for being subtle about it, I think to myself.

Then something crosses my mind – an idea that I thought of years ago, but had quickly pushed it aside, not knowing if I truly wanted to know or not. I didn't – and still don't – think it's likely but…

"I mean," I say, "do you regret saving us?"

"No," she answers immediately. "Never that. I could never regret that part. That day I was acting as a member of the security team. Your parents trusted me enough to put you in my care – it was my job to protect you. But, even if it wasn't, I'd still protect you because I love you guys."

She takes a moment to think.

"Imagine a high definition movie, except with several chunks of film missing – that's what my memory of that day is like. What I do remember is so vivid, I remember the colours, the smell, what I was thinking, how I was feeling, everything. It is more vivid that the memory I have of ten minutes ago or even five minutes ago. It's like a permanent stain that doesn't even fade the tiniest bit. Maybe that's how it'll be for the rest of my life. And the blank chunks that are missing have been filled in with other people's words.

"Except that moment or two when Jack Hyde died. I think if I could really remember _exactly _what I was thinking, it might help. And I think if I think hard enough I could remember or at least figure it out. But the truth is a part of me doesn't want to. Because the likelihood of it helping me is the same amount as the likelihood of it making me ten times worse. I already hate the fact that I killed him. What if I hate the thoughts I had whilst doing it? It absolutely terrifies me.

"The court was right to question my actions – at some point I would have beaten him down just enough so that he'd stop coming at me, I could have stopped hitting him and gotten away. It would have been the same outcome: we'd all be safe. But he could have been alive too. But I didn't stop - I stood there and kept hitting him. And now he's dead. And I don't know why I didn't stop hitting him. So, no; I don't regret anything I did that day, except the simple fact that I didn't stop hitting him when I could have.

"And Ted, last night, how you explained that he wasn't a very nice person, he was sentenced to life imprisonment, that he came from nowhere and was going nowhere, and there was no one who _really_ loved him – that helped, I think that's why I'm not how I was the first time. But I took a life – _any _life. I took someone's life, and I will carry that with me for as long as I live."

She sighs and carefully brushes her hair away from the scar on her face.

"What is most terrifying, above all else," she continues, "is how simple it was. Not easy – because he really put up a fight. But simple. A blow to his head. It is so simple to kill another person. One hit, or one stab, or one bullet. I hit him many times, any one of those times the hit could have landed in the place that would have killed him. What he did to me - to us - is terrifying to me. Just not as terrifying as what I did to him - something I never thought I would do. When I picked up the baseball bat, it was so simple – to _just _get him off me, to _just _protect myself. I picked it up without hesitation and I swung it without hesitation – I didn't even think about how much power I had over him. And before I knew it there was a dead person in front of me. Not a criminal, or a threat. A _person. Another human being. _And they're dead because of me."

When she finishes we sit in silence. Sophie's mood has gone back to being really very sombre. She takes Anouk from Ted and just holds her in her arms – I assume, for comfort but whether it's consciously or subconsciously, I don't know. We sit for a while and things fall into place – I know Ted's figuring it out too.

That's why she stopped her favourite hobby: archery. She _loved _her bow and arrow, she even taught Ted how to arch, she tried with me too - not that it worked. But she used to really love it. But although there's an art to it, the main objective is to target a point and hit it. Just like any other target practice – I believe that was something she used to do with her father, which she stopped too. It all reminds her of the violence of that day.

And then there were the action movies that she stopped watching– full of blazing guns and fist fights. Actors pretending to kill other actors – done so casually. And a lot of the time a lot of the dead characters were just extras and bystanders – working for someone else, sometimes even _just _doing their job. But the hero is glorified. We say that it's okay for that hero to have killed a load of people, because it was for the greater good. Or at least what we know 'the greater good' to be.

I understand where Sophie is coming from. It is scary – you don't really ever think that it'll happen to you, you think that you could never kill a person. I've never really thought about how capable we _really_ are of damage. It makes me appreciate when the antagonist is still alive at the end of the movie, and taken to prison.

A knock on the door startles me. Mom peeks around the corner of the door.

"I was just wondering if you guys want to order in or go out for dinner?" she questions, I think we all know that she's really asking Sophie if she's up for it.

"Does _The Cheesecake Factory_ still do that Oreo cheesecake?" Sophie asks, perking up so quickly, it's startling.

"Yes," Ted says.

"Well I wouldn't mind going to _The Cheesecake Factory_," Sophie grins.

"_The Cheesecake Factory_ it is then," Mom says with a smile.

* * *

For the second evening in a row, I found myself at dinner with my family, minus my younger brother. But this time we were with the Taylor's as well. We left the apartment and walked down 8th Avenue, then turned right onto Pike Street to the end of the block where we reached the restaurant. Sophie linked onto mine and Ted's arms and said how strange her father looked pushing a stroller down the street. We laughed a bit.

As expected for Saturday night, _The Cheesecake Factory_ was rather busy. Ted went inside to get one of those pager things. We waited patiently outside. Dad and Iz joined us just as we were getting seated. The waiter was nice enough to put us in a quiet corner, for Anouk.

Sophie had scowled at the menu for a good three or four minutes after Uncle Taylor said that she wasn't allowed to have cake until she ate proper food – she looked like a young child, but she actually seemed genuinely frustrated by it. Ted then teased her about the tantrum she had a Dr Flynn's office earlier today. That seemed to lighten her mood and she teased him back, saying that he couldn't really say anything because he had joined in. Our parents then decided to gang up on us and tell about some embarrassing times we had as children.

Ted was visibly happy that Sophie seemed to have an appetite for the first time in weeks. She ate a whole pizza to herself, a kale salad, two glasses of orange juice, and then went to pick at the fries on Ted's plate too. All before tucking into a slice of Oreo cheesecake. Honestly, I'm surprised she didn't throw up. Eventually, she rested her head on Ted's shoulder and drifted off to sleep – she used to do that quite a lot, even before they were in a relationship.

"Hey sis," Ted says softly, only loud enough for me to hear.

"Yes?" I say, looking up from my beautiful niece who's asleep in my arms.

"Thank you," he says. "For helping me earlier. If you weren't there I'd probably be interrogating her, and she wouldn't have told me all that stuff… She's never spoken about anything like that before."

"You're welcome Ted," I tell him, with a smile. "But, you're more patient then you give yourself credit for."

He leans down and gives me a kiss on the cheek. And for the rest of the night it is easy to forget all the other crappy things that are going on.


	13. Dearest of Frivolous Nothings

**Penelope**

I have become accustomed to the Sunday morning side-glances and hissing whispers, as Fiona and I leave Sacred Heart of Jesus church, holding hands. Don't get me wrong, not everyone sneers at us, in fact most of parishioners don't. But there are always a few people – sometimes they'll even complain to my face about it. But I just say that I'm homosexual _and_ a believer in the Catholic religion, deal with it.

"Are you sure you don't want to come with me?" I ask Fiona, as we wonder back to the car.

"Yes," she smiles. "I don't think it's the right time for Sophie to _re-meet_ me yet."

"Okay," I sigh. "I'll drive you home before I go then."

"No, no, it's okay. It's a nice day, I'll walk."

We don't live too far from the Church, so it's not too far to walk. However, she says 'nice day', and I say 'not raining right this minute'. I purse my lips, but she grins at me widely.

"You're adorable when you worry," she wraps her arms around my waist, pulls me closer and pecks my lips.

Before she gets too far I pull her back to me and kiss her more passionately. I entwine my fingers into her short, honeycomb-coloured hair, whilst she caresses my face. The kiss doesn't last too longer, but it's not short. It's not lazy, but not urgent either. It's exactly right. It's the kind of kiss that makes my heart flutter, and makes me go all warm and fuzzy of the inside. I love this girl so much, it's ridiculous.

"You should get going," she says, when she pulls back.

"Yeah okay," I sigh. "I'll see you later. I love you."

"I love you too".

I watch her as she disappears down the road. As I turn back to the car, I see two older women blatantly staring, not even trying to cover up the fact that they were probably talking about us not ten seconds ago. I give them a warm smile and wave. Their disapproving looks intensify tenfold.

_Assholes_, I think, as climb into the driver's seat and start the engine.

* * *

Cooper lets me into the small house above the garage of the Grey's property. Mr Grey never minded me coming over when Sophie was here, probably because the reason she was here was that she wasn't feeling great or she had a problem, and I could cheer her up. Despite of how intimidated Sophie used to be – and is now, I guess – of Mr Grey, he has genuinely come to really care about her.

Cooper informs me that Mr and Mrs Taylor have gone grocery shopping – a very large shop apparently, as Sophie has got her appetite back. I understand, I've watched how Sophie eats, and usually she has a _massive_ appetite – that girl can eat and eat – but she works out a lot so she keeps slim.

Cooper has an apartment right next door to Ted and Sophie at Tower 801, I idly wonder if he's staying here now or if he commutes.

"Miss Sophie is in her room," Cooper says. "She's been there all morning."

"Thank you, Cooper."

I head upstairs. It's noon now, I wonder what she's been doing. I knock on the door, when I don't hear a reply I slowly let myself in. Much unlike Sophie's apartment over in Tower 801, her old bedroom is thoroughly adorned with evidence of her childhood and teen years. From the white wood furniture and French blue bedsheets, to the movie posters on the powder blue walls. I don't know what it was about this room, but no matter how dreary it might be outside, you could almost pretend you were at a sunny beach house when you were here.

I scan the room twice before I realise that there is a Sophie-sized lump under her bedsheets.

"Sophie?" I ask.

A muffled "I'm asleep", comes from under the covers.

"Oh really?" I sigh. I go over to the bed and pull at the sheets until I find her face… or her hair. I push her hair out of her face, being gentle where her wound is. "You've been in bed all morning, and you've not even been sleeping?"

Her eyes have dark circles surrounding them.

"Please tell me you're not wallowing," I say.

"No," she sniffs. "I'm tired."

"I know you're tired. But you need a proper sleep schedule to help. The more you stay here pretending to be a burrito the more tired you're going to feel now, then you'll get your energy back later in the day, and then you won't be able to sleep tonight. Then you'll be tired in the morning and repeat this whole cycle again"

"I'm not a burrito - I'm a caterpillar in a cocoon. You should just let me hibernate for a while"

"Well this caterpillar is going to have to turn into a butterfly now. So get up."

"I don't want to be a butterfly. I just want to be a caterpillar, and sit on branches and eat leaves all day."

For someone who was always rather mature, Sophie always had a child-like silliness, at the same time.

"You're so weird," I laugh. "Sometimes I wonder how we ever became friends."

She groans and tries to hide under her sheets again. But I yank them down to the bottom of the bed. She sits up so fast I almost jump back.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT, PENELOPE!?" She snaps, the glare she gives me is so cold it is like a slap in the face.

_Wow._ What the actual fuck? Talk about mood swings. Okay, I totally see why Dr. Flynn suggested she re-accommodate – he predicted this. So, as much as her tone pisses me off, I have to remember to remain calm.

"I'm going to use your bathroom," I tell her, I keep my voice quiet and controlled. "And when I'm done, you better be up. Or I'm going to get Cooper to throw you over his shoulder, and we'll play Barbie with you."

I head into the adjoining bathroom. I stare at my brown eyes, brown hair and freckled skin reflected in the mirror. I just take a moment to breathe and let my remaining anger slip away.

About a minute later, I remember that this is where Mr Taylor had found her, years ago, in the bathtub, drunk, drugged and almost drowned. And suddenly I want to leave quickly.

I sigh and freshen up. When I leave the bathroom, Sophie isn't there. So I head downstairs to look for her.

I see she sits at the dining table with her head resting on her arm, on the table. She has a slice of cheesecake in a takeaway box in front of her. There's also a few burning incense sticks resting in the middle of the table. I watch as her eyes follow the smoke upwards.

It's not the first time I've seen her do that.

"She likes looking at smoke, doesn't she?" I mutter to Cooper, who's sitting on the sofa, reading a book.

Before he can answer Mr and Mrs Taylor walk arms, full of grocery bags.

"Ever since she was little," Mr Taylor says, answering my previous question. "Strange little girl. Just don't look at me, she didn't inherit it from my side of the family."

"Good afternoon, Mr Taylor," I smile.

"Good afternoon, Penelope. It's good to see you." He pauses, and looks at how his daughter is still in her sleepwear, and her hair is like a lion's mane around her face. "Did she only get up now?"

"Yes," I say.

He scowls at Sophie, who smiles sheepishly at him.

"We're going for a walk," I tell her. "You look like you could do with some air."

"We could stay here and open some windows," Sophie proposes.

I just give her a look.

"Cheesecake for brunch?" I ask. She just nods. At least she's eating _something_ – if her appetite really is back then I know she'll eat again soon.

"Pen?" she says quietly.

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry about before," she says. "About snapping at you."

"It's okay," I say. "Hurry up and finish, then go get ready."

"You were never this bossy before," she sighs, shovelling about a third of the cake into her mouth, making her cheeks puff out.

"Usually it's you who's bossy. But if you're not going to do it, then I'm going to have to."

She frowns and thinks about that whilst she finishes off her cheesecake.

* * *

We walk along the marina that is not too far from the house. It's not exactly warm but it's not too cold either. And it's not raining so that's a bonus.

"I've been here for not even a day," Sophie says. "And I've been in bed for most of the time. But I've been so irritable and angry. And then I'm fine. Then I'm quickly angry again. I don't even know why I'm angry - I just am. Flynn said that I would be like this, so I guess it's a good thing I'm staying with Papa and Gail. But I actually liked having Teddy around. There's something about him… he has a _presence_, even when he's not in the same room as me… It makes me feel a little less _alone. _And poor Teddy has been looking after the baby all by himself, _and _dealing with me as well. At least he's off work for a while. He looks more and more tired every day. And then there's..."

"What?" I encourage.

"There is... there's... _Anouk," _she breathes reverently. I don't hide that I'm... relieved - in a way - to hear Sophie finally say her name. "One… _part of me _is glad that I'm not around her, because I know she deserves more than me – I mean there's so much other crap going on with me, and I can't make her my main focus, which sucks. But at the same time another part of me wants to be with her constantly. I want her with me _all the time. _And I don't understand why."

"It's because you're her mother," I say, not even thinking about if there is a way to say it more subtly, or less intimidating; she doesn't need to be babied any more.

She doesn't say anything for a while, as we continue along. We walk across a parking lot, come to a stop on a pier, and lean against the railing. Sophie looks down and watches the tiny ripples in the water much like she watched the smoke from the incense earlier. I can hear the small splashes against the side of yachts and the conversation of a small group of fishermen nearby. Sophie gets a few stares from passers-by, I don't know if it's because of Sophie's scar or because they recognised her from the papers.

"Last night was a long night," Sophie says, after some time of silence. "I was agitated. I got out of bed and paced my room on several occasions. I've felt an _urge, _to do something – but I don't know what. It's like I need to change something or find some sort of release."

"I think I know what you're talking about," I say. "It's like when something happens in your life… it doesn't have to be something major. But like you just have to do something that isn't anything to do with the thing itself. For example, I go on a shopping spree, to vent my frustrations."

"I hate shopping," she says dryly.

"I know," I laugh. "So, instead you change your hair."

"Change my hair?"

"At least that's what you would do, before the accident."

"Like dying it blue?" she asks.

"No," I laugh, remembering _that_ particular experience.

We were in our second year of college, we were at a party with a small group of friends in someone's apartment and totally drunk. Someone thought it was a good idea to play Truth or Dare. I dared Sophie to dye her hair, with some dye I found in the bathroom. She almost crapped herself when she woke up the next morning vivid bright blue hair. It just before Christmas and she didn't have time to go to the hairdressers, so she had to rush around with her hair tucked into a beanie hat. Mr Taylor wasn't very impressed when she went home for the holidays.

"Just getting a different cut, or maybe some highlights. Once you had a pixie cut… It was quite nice actually."

"Mmm," she says after a pause. "My mother used to do that. Change her hair, I mean… whenever she split up with a boyfriend."

"Well, I don't know about... _boyfriends_, but you definitely changed your hair when you were stressed at work, or if some issue came up within your family."

"Talking about boyfriends," she says suddenly. "Do you know… Like… who my first… I mean, who I did _it _with, the first time?"

I smile._ It? _Are we ten years old again?

"Yeah," I say. "He was your boyfriend for a while. You were 24 - "

"I waited that long?!" she asks. "I thought that maybe once I had left college…"

"You always said you wanted to wait until you found someone you _really _wanted to do it with, and not just have sex for the sake of having sex. You just didn't find that person. And then there was the thing with Hyde. And then after that was over, you found him. To be honest, I was surprised you got into your first relationship so soon after _the incident._"

"What was his name?" she asks.

"Michael," I say. "You guys were together for about a year, then you broke up. A lot of us didn't like him - but no one could ever quiet put their finger on why we felt that way. But that doesn't matter; you liked him well enough. And as much as I didn't like him, he really helped you move forward with your life."

I tell her that I didn't like him. Truth is I was scared of him. That relationship was rather weird. I don't know what _exactly _it was, but the way he treated her made me uncomfortable - I'm not the only one who thought so, so did her parents, and Ted. Ted _especially _disliked him - it wasn't a jealousy thing, he actually wanted her to be with someone who could help her, but not Michael. It was the way Michael looked at her and talked to her - so _possessive. _And the way she was with him was even worse - or I should say, _who _she was when she was with him. When she was with him, she was never so unlike the Sophie I knew.

But I tell her I don't know exactly, because she doesn't need to know. She has other things to worry about, not some weirdo boyfriend from years ago, that she doesn't even talk to or see any more.

"Oh, what happened to him after that? Are we still friends?"

"No, after you broke up, you didn't talk anymore," I say. "And I don't know where he went. You never really talked about him after you broke up."

"Oh," she says, "why?"

I think it made her uncomfortable to talk about him - she would always change the subject when he came up. Whatever happened between them, I was glad it was finished. But, again, I don't tell her this.

"Dunno," I shrug. "Like I said, you were a very private person, and there was a lot not said."

She looks like something is troubling her.

"Don't think on it, Sophie," I say. "I assume it was a messy break up – many people have messy break ups. It's something in the past that hasn't come back to haunt you now. You don't need to worry about it."

"You're right," she nods, turning to me.

She has lost some of her Daenerys Targaryen look – her hair isn't so white, just a light ash blond. She's also lost most of her tan now – she's much paler. She looks much older - like she could actually pass for the 31 year old she is, and not the 21 year old she usually looks like.

"You look so fucking tired," I mutter

"I know," she sighs.

"Were you thinking about Hyde, last night?"

"No," she says. "I was actually thinking about when my dad found me in the bathroom, three weeks later… Okay, this is going to sound weird…"

"You've been saying weird things since I got here," I laugh.

"Okay, well, I was thinking about that day, and some of it became a little clearer. Ted said I had drank a lot so I'm not surprised that that part is hazier than the rest of it. But I remember my head felt heavy and was thumping so I took the tablets. And I felt hot, and I got into the tub with cold water. But I think I was wearing a sweater then, so I thought why hadn't I just taken off a few layers? So I was lying in bed thinking about that, then a thought about… _mermaids _came into my head. And I remembered that was thinking about mermaids when I got into the tub."

Urm. I'm not quite sure what I'm supposed to say to that.

"So," she continues. "I thought some more about mermaids. And then there were these images. There was this really colourful bar. There were these blue shell lamps on the ceiling. And there was this massive tank with mermaids inside….not real ones obviously. But women wearing tails. I knew I'd been there before. And I think you'd know what I'm talking about because I think you were there with me."

At this point I had stopped walking.

"Was there ever a bar?" she asks.

"Yes," I say. "The Mermaid Restaurant and Lounge. We took a trip to Las Vegas, maybe about a year after we graduated. We ended up there one night. We were sitting there drinking, and then some guy started talking to us. So we had a friendly conversation with him. We ended up telling him of our finance degrees. Which he said was really boring – then he told us he was actually the manager of the bar, and asked us if we wanted to move to Vegas and become mermaids. We had a good laugh."

I don't know why she might have been thinking about that when she got into the tub, but that's not what I'm interested in right now.

"I almost forgot about that… But you remember?!"

"Yeah," she sighs, with a slight smile.

"That's great Sophie, it really is. Maybe you'll start remembering more things."

* * *

As soon as we return to the small house, we can hear raised voices, from the next room.

"Is this really necessary, _right now?" _Mr Taylor says. "It's _Sunday."_

"I was in the area," a gruff voice says simply.

I saw Sophie's Range Rover outside, which means Ted's here – Sophie's not allowed to drive right now, and Ted's car was wrecked, so he's using hers until he gets a new one.

We enter the room, I see Ted and Anouk sitting next to Mrs Taylor on the sofa. Cooper sits opposite them. An annoyed looking Mr Taylor stands beside the sofa, his wife's hand rests on his arm, as if to calm him.

Sophie hurries over to Ted, plucking Anouk from his arms and holds the babe to her. For a moment, time halts whilst Ted and Sophie share a look. Neither say anything, but they both look like they have something to say. It's a look of understanding, a mutual expression – though, I'm not entirely sure about what exactly.

I think Ted needs to relax a little about this relationship thing; Sophie's clearly quite taken with him, even if she won't admit it herself.

A tall, dark, scowling man who is standing in the middle of the room, clears his throat loudly, interrupting Sophie and Ted's moment. I feel like I've seen him before.

"Mrs Grey," he says.

It takes Sophie a second or two to realise he's talking to her.

"Detective Clark," he says. She ambles over to him. They shake hands.

"Have we met before, Detective?" Sophie asks, after scrutinizing his face a little.

"There were many people who came to your defence for the Hyde trial," Mr Taylor explains. "Detective Clark is one of these people. He helped with your case. He was also the detective when Hyde went after Ana Grey, years ago"

So that's where I've seen him – at Sophie's trial. Although, I don't believe we formally met.

"You recognised me?" Clark ask.

"Yes," Sophie says. "Since that part of my life has come back to yesterday, it seems I'm able to recognise some things I've forgotten a little easier – just little things. Your face seems to be one of those things."

I don't miss Ted's scowl.

"Yes, well, the first time we met you asked me if I was angry or if my natural expression was a scowl."

There's an awkward pause, and I try not to laugh. I remember how once Sophie started talking again, it was always quite difficult to shut her up, it was like she didn't have a filter.

"Ah. Urr... Sorry," Sophie says sheepishly. "But I should thank you for helping. I was told that the trial went well."

"You're welcome," he says. "But that's not why I'm here today."

Just then Mr Grey walks in to the room, followed shortly by Phoebe. I'm guessing it is normal for him to just waltz in like he owns the place... Oh wait, he _does _own the place.

Phoebe comes over to me, and we hug in greeting - we don't say anything though. I think it's a shame we didn't get to spend more time together before she leaves for college again, later this evening.

"I heard Detective Clark was here," Mrs Grey says, going over to shake the man's hand. "It's good to see you again. You seem like the right man for the job – after having helped us several times before."

"You said you have news of the accident," Ted says, impatiently. As if the introductions were taking up a great deal of time out of his _life_. "If you're going to bother us on a Sunday, because apparently this couldn't wait until tomorrow, we'd appreciate you making it _quick_."

"Teddy," Sophie says softly, placing a hand on his shoulder to calm him.

"Well, like I said I was in the area," Clark says, he turns to Sophie. "But I really only came to talk to Mrs Grey."

"We can talk here," she says firmly.

"In front of _all _of them?"

"Yes."

"Alright," murmurs Clark, resigned. He clears his throat. "Mrs Grey, we have strong reason to believe that the car crash you were involved in wasn't an accident. I don't want to raise false alarms, but we don't know if you were specifically targeted or if it just happened to be your car that got hit. I'm sure you've heard that the vehicle that hit you was a white van, we traced the plate back to a low-end van rental company. We found out the vehicle hasn't been returned, and was rented under fake information, paid in cash. It had been rented two days before the collision. So we searched footage of surveillance cameras in the area. And we've spoken to some witnesses. It shows that the van had been waiting around the corner for several hours, and only moved when you came along. I have a video, I can show you, of what I mean. But it's up to you if you want to watch it. It might seem quite graphic."

All eyes turn to Sophie, I can tell everyone else in the room wants to see it. For a moment she looks to her father, neither say anything, but something passes between them.

"Okay," she nods. She sits down on the sofa beside Ted. We all crowd around as Clark pulls out a tablet device, after a few taps he shows us the screen.

I instantly recognise Seattle Public Library from its strange geometric shaped glass building. The surveillance must be from the building next to it – a skyscraper of apartments, I believe. The feed shows the area where Madison Street and 5th Avenue cross. The road on Madison Street inclines downwards as it heads south west. In the corner of the screen we can just about see a white van parked on the end of a small parking zone outside Madison Centre.

"This is speeded up. It's the footage between 14:00 and 14:26 that day," Clark explains.

I watch the time in the corner carefully. At 14:03, I see Teddy's black Aston Martin Vanquish coming down 5th Avenue. The front windows are tinted as much as Washington law permits. Obviously Sophie is driving it. I see her slow a little just outside the library but otherwise keeps driving forward until she's out of sight.

Huh?

The video fast forwards. 14:11. Sophie drives down 5th Avenue again. And does the exact same thing, driving straight down 5th Avenue without stopping.

I'm confused.

Then 14:19. Sophie drives straight down once more.

I don't know why she's just driving around.

Then 14:24pm. I see her coming down the street. She slows down to a stop in front of the traffic light as it goes red. It's not too busy, and only three of four people hurry across the road in front of her. Traffic continues down on Madison Avenue. Until the white van pulls out of its parking space. The cars behind slow and wait for it to pull out and head down Madison Street. But it doesn't. It stops in the middle of both lanes so no one can get around it, and waits as if the lights were red for that side. There's no sound on the video but I can imagine car horns blaring. Eventually, the lights change and go green for Sophie. She moves forward quickly – much faster than the car in the lane beside her, who has barely moved at all. I almost jump out of my skin, as the white van suddenly surges forward – faster than I ever seen a vehicle of that size move – and connects with the front left side of the Aston Martin.

The van doesn't stop moving forwards, but pushes the small car to the right the tiniest bit before speeding off down Madison Avenue, with pedestrians diving out of the way. However, the impact caused Sophie to keep moving, in a tight arc shape, the front wheels hardly moving at all. We can watch as the lightweight car skids a little down the sloped road, and basically does a 180 degree turn. The only thing that stops the car from crashing head first into the corner of the library building is an old lamp post on the corner of the street.

The hood of the car bends and crunches against the pole. And if that wasn't enough, the pole tilts and sways. It could have fallen backwards. But it didn't, it fell forwards on top of the car, badly denting the roof above the passenger seat. Then it stops. Fiery, electrical sparks flit across across the metal - metal of the car, metal of the lamp post. And then the sparks flit inside the car, thought the hole were the window used to be. I can't see where exactly but there looks like a small fire inside the car.

Everything freezes for a few seconds, before the first person runs to the car, then a few more, all running to help Sophie. I can see someone running out of the library with a fire extinguisher just as the video ends.

Nobody says anything for a while.

"Excuse me," Sophie says, standing and passing Anouk to Ted. She walks out of the room and a few seconds later I hear her bedroom door slam shut.

Everyone turns to Detective Clark and gives him a dirty look. It's not actually his fault – he did give us a warning about the video. And he also informed us about the potential danger Sophie is in. Before Ted can start ranting to him, Mr Grey speaks up, thanking the Detective for the information. Mr Taylor makes a move to check if Sophie is okay, but I stop him.

"I've got this," I say gently. He gives me a weak smile that doesn't touch his worried eyes.

The others continue to talk to Clark as I head up the stairs. I can hear Ted talking about another meeting so Clark can ask any questions he has, as Sophie probably doesn't want to answer them right now.

When I get inside Sophie's room I stand beside the door for a minute, just watching her. She sits on the bed visibly shaking, her head in her hands, her fingers tangled in her hair. Then she stands and paces. Then she stops and sits back down in the same position as before.

I grab her desk chair and sit in front of her, gently removing her hands from the grip she has on her hair.

"Hey," I say gently, I push her back a little so I can see her face. She moves back to lean against the wall behind her. "Talk to me."

She doesn't say anything, instead she's chosen a spot above my head, behind me and she's staring at it. She doesn't say anything. I watch as she swallows several times.

"I don't know how you do it," I say "But you do this when you're upset. You'll stare at one spot and not say anything, you'll swallow and swallow so that you don't let yourself cry. You're very good at it. You've trained yourself to not cry, and not to speak. If I ask you to tell me what exactly is wrong, you won't say anything because if you speak you'll cry. But I know the words are in the front of your mind – on the tip of your tongue. But you just won't say them."

She turns her head to the side and finds a different spot to stare at, so that I can't see her eyes.

"Crying's not a weakness, Sophie," I tell her. "Neither is saying things that really upset you. You have to let someone in."

Then I see the corners of her mouth turn down, she sniffles and tears run down her face.

"It's too much Pen," she sobs, shaking her head. "It's too much."

"I know," I whisper.

My heart breaks a little bit, and I find that I'm struggling to not cry with her.

"I don't want it," she gasps. "I don't want any of this. My memory, Jack and now this. I can't take it."

I move to sit beside her and pull her into a hug.

"It's just one thing after another," she cries on my shoulder. "Like, I kind of knew – like I'm not fucking surprised about it, because it was so fucking dodgy anyway. So fucking dodgy. But I still hoped it wasn't true."

"Sophie," I say. "You're so protected right now. You have Cooper, and I don't doubt there will be an increase in security detail. Your father is friggin' Batman or something."

She let out a small laugh at that.

"But, Pen," she hiccups. "It wasn't my car – it was Teddy's car. What if it's Teddy, not me?"

I pause, that hadn't crossed my mind. Yet, I wasn't any _more_ worried.

"Sophie," I say. "You're talking about _Theodore fucking Grey_. The whole Grey family is _already_ incredibly protected. He is just as protected as you are."

"We can't possibly be _that _protected if I was in a car crash. And, yesterday we all went out to dinner, and leaving the restaurant there was crowd of reporters and photographers. I had to hide behind Papa, it was kind of scary."

"If you're being targeted, having the media follow you around could possibly be quite helpful – more eyes on you, in a sense."

"But Annie," she whimpers. "She's just a baby, she can't defend herself! She'll be in danger, as long as Teddy or I am. She's so tiny!"

_Annie? _That's new. I've never heard her call Anouk that before. Cherub or _Passerotto_ (meaning 'little sparrow') are usually the nicknames she uses.

"Shhh. I wouldn't be surprised if Anouk is the safest baby in the state of Washington. Besides, we don't know for sure that someone's coming after you."

She scoffed and raised an eyebrow at me.

"What? It could all just be one coincidence – the rented creepy van, I mean. And maybe the driver just hit you because he didn't like the car."

She lets out a laugh the absolutely ridiculous notion.

"Or maybe because I kept driving around in circles, and I was annoying them," she jokes, and laughs harder. I laugh too.

"That's better," I say, as she wipes away her remaining tears.

"Sorry," she murmurs.

"There's nothing to be sorry for," I say. "I know it is just one thing after another. But you're surrounding by people who are willing to help you with _anything_. We'll sort it all out with you, one baby step at a time. Okay?"

She nods, and gives me a hug.

"Thanks, Pen," she mutters.

"Better?" I ask.

"Yes," she sniffles.

We sit together for a while longer, in comfortable silence. Eventually she tugs a little on lock of her hair and fiddles with it between her fingers.

"Wanna do something with that?" I gesture to her hair.

"Maybe," she says. "But it'll be hard to do anything, with this bald patch." She gestures to the left side of her head.

Suddenly recognition crosses her face, and I think she knows what she wants to do.

"Stay here," she mutters, getting up.

"What are you going to do?"

"It's a surprise," she says. "I don't know if you'll like it, but I don't really care."

I let out a small laugh.

"Oh gosh," I sigh. "Can I have a clue at least?"

"Think… 2013 or 2014."

I sigh, I was only 9 or 10. I think carefully about fashion trends.

I think she'll go into her bathroom, but instead heads out her bedroom, down the hall, and towards her parent's bedroom.

"Sophie?" Mr Taylor calls, as she rushes passed him, just as he reaches the top of the stairs. He glances at me and I give him a shrug. He then follows her into the bedroom, and goes up to the adjoining bathroom door.

"Sophie, are you okay, baby?" he asks, as he tried the handle, which is locked. I wonder over to stand beside him. There's no answer on the other side, but just the sound of a cupboard opening and closing. "Sophie?"

After a moment, a faint buzzing sound can be heard from the other side of the door.

"Is that…?" Mr Taylor calls. "Sophie?! You better not be doing a Britney!"

Britney? Oh right Britney Spears – when she shaved all her hair off or something. I would have been very young when that happened.

On a different occasion, the sight of Mr Taylor spitting perfect Italian at a closed door, might have been amusing.

Eventually, Sophie answers back in the same perfect Italian. What they are saying is a complete mystery to me.

"Calm down? Don't tell me to calm down!" Mr Taylor spits.

"I'm not listening to you anymore," Sophie sighs, before singing an old Britney song - _Baby One More Time, _I believe.

Mr Taylor huffed and sat down on the edge of the bed. We both waited in silence, until some minutes later, when the door unlocks and opens.

Sophie stands in the doorframe, with her hair swept to the right. It's no longer long to her waist, but cut to just past her shoulder. The left side of her head no long has a bald patch, because that section is now buzzed.

I let out a laugh. Of course, the undercut trend.

She grins and winks at me.

"Okay," I nod. "It's not too bad."

"_Not too bad?" _Mr Taylor scoffs. Then he asks her: "Is one side of your head heavier than the other side now?"

"Papa!" Sophie exclaims.

He lets out a hearty laugh.

"I'm just messing with you," he smiles, giving the shaved part of her head a kiss. "Whatever makes you happy".

"Okay then," she says. "Maybe I'll buzz all of it – that way we can be matching."

"Oh hell no," he says, suddenly serious.

Then she takes her turn to laugh.


	14. By Sun

**Sophie**

_Today, will be better than yesterday, _my subconscious tells me, as soon as I'm awake enough to for her to form a proper thought.

It's not a prediction, exactly – it's a demand. I've never appreciated that part of me so much as I do now - as I agree with her, declaring to myself that I will do something productive today.

So I get out of bed, and stretch as much as I can without hurting myself. My wrist is healed, and the only evidence of the wounds to my legs are the pale scars, and the dull ache when I strain too hard. I've been pretty good with caring for the burn on my face, putting ointment twice a day everyday – it's now a pale pink colour.

Tomorrow, I have to go for a check-up at the hospital – a CT scan. But today, I decide that I'll read through some more of the folders Mr Grey gave me, because really that's the only thing I have to do.

I don't know if Teddy will come over or not, I've had enough of 'giving people permission' to see me – I told him he can come over any time he wants. Besides, it _is _his father's property.

After a quick shower I throw on jeans and a t-shirt. I find Gail has cooked me up some eggs and toast, with fresh orange juice. I thank her and gobble down breakfast, while I flick through a copy of _Forbes. _Gail and I chat a little bit, but she doesn't say much and for some reason I feel like she's hiding something from me. However, she's too light-hearted for me to suspect it as something serious.

After, I'm done eating I head upstairs and go over to my old desk in the corner of the room, where I used to sit and do my homework. I thought I left the folders just on the top. But they're not there. I check my suitcase and the rest of my room, with no success. So I head downstairs and check the living room, again, coming up empty handed.

"Gail," I call. "Have you seen my work folders?"

"Didn't you put them on your desk?" she asks, appearing from the kitchen.

"Yes, but now they're not there."

"Oh," she shrugs casually. "I don't know where they are."

_Too casual._

I stare at her for a second or two – she looks far too innocent.

_She always knows where everything is._

"Yes, you do," I say.

"Really, Sophie?" she raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow. But she's not fooling me.

Just as I'm about to say something, I hear the front door open and close. I guessed it was my father coming back from driving Mr Grey to work. But, I'm surprised when Teddy strolls into the room.

Why is he so early?

"Hello," he smiles. "Oh good, you're ready."

"Hi," I say, I can hear worry laced in my own voice. "Where's Anouk?"

"She's in the car, Cooper is watching her. They're waiting for us."

"Waiting?"

"I'm taking you out"

"_Huh?"_

"On a date… Well, Anouk is coming too. We're all going on a date… Oh, Cooper has to come too - but he won't be in our way - after what the detective told us yesterday nobody is taking any risks."

"A date?!" I squeak.

"Yes, Sophie. It's actually quite a common concept," he teases. "It's a social or romantic activity - "

"I know what a date is, Theodore," I scowl, cutting him off.

"Oh good," he laughs.

"I can't go out… I'm busy, today," I say.

_You said you'd give the relationship a try, _my Subconscious/Extrovert reminds me.

I know, but _dating?_

I remember going on a few dates during college, in Chicago. Many first dates – no second dates. I found them all stiff and awkward occasions – or the guy just wanted to get into my panties, which wasn't going to happen. _Actually_, there was this one boy, named Holden Holt, he was sweet. He admitted he was nervous, because everyone had told him that I was way out of his league or whatever. But I thought it was brave to have asked me despite what everyone was telling him. He took me to The Field Museum, and it was pretty interesting because he knew so much about a variety of the exhibitions. It was actually so much better than sitting uncomfortably across a table from some pretty boy, who flicks his hair so much you'd think he had some sort of a neck spasm or something. But anyway, I only went on one date with Holden because I realised that if we went any further things might have gotten serious - and I didn't want that. We stayed friends, though. I wonder where he is now…

Then I remember what Teddy said the other night: "_And it was fun. It didn't feel weird at all. It was strangely normal actually. It was us being us, just dressed up in fancy restaurant."_

_So, you mean we went to a fancy restaurant and actually had fun? _my subconscious asks.

Well, I was a different person then, I might have developed a liking to fancy restaurants and dinner dates.

_Or Teddy could have been the reason why you enjoyed it so much._

"Impossible," Teddy says, pulling back from my thoughts. "I've already cleared your non-existent schedule."

"I'm going to do some reading," I declare.

"Oh, reading what?"

"My work folders."

"Oh really?" he smirks.

I blink at him then turn to look at Gail, who is leaning against the wall, with a mischievous grin on her face. I look between the two.

"Gail!" I say, accusingly. "You hid them for him!"

She just laughs and shrugs. I scowl, I don't like that I'm being ganged up on.

"Well... you know... back in the day... you were supposed to ask the girl's father if it was okay to court her," I say, rather proud of myself, for finding another excuse.

_What kind of fucking excuse…? _My Subconscious asks dryly.

"That rule is ancient – I didn't ask his permission, but I _did_ let him know. Taylor thinks it's a great idea, as long as you're back before midnight."

I gape at him.

_Wow._

Wow, indeed.

Gail is laughing at me. And a triumphant grin spreads across Teddy's face.

Not so fast, Grey!

"So everyone just decided for me?" I ask.

"You can still say no," Teddy says, serious now. "I'm not going to drag you out the door."

I sigh.

_You said you'd give it a go, _she repeats.

"Look," Teddy says. "We don't have to think of it as a date, if you don't want to. We can just go out and spend the day together."

That sounds less daunting.

"Okay," I say.

"Really?" he smiles a boyish smile.

_Fuck, he's cute._

Shh!

I nod, and head upstairs quickly, to grab my jacket and purse. Before I realise it, I'm in my bathroom yanking a brush through my hair so it doesn't look so much like a lion's mane. I look at the image in the mirror and decide that the girl in front of me needs something to brighten her face. I've never been into makeup, but Phoebe put a tube of lipstick into my bag – apparently it's the colour I've been wearing casually every day for years. The word 'casual' seems inappropriate as it's a bold, harlot red colour. I put it on and discover it's matte instead of glossy. I look closer into the mirror and see a pair of lips that look like velvety rose petals.

Hmm. I think I like it.

I hop downstairs again and run into the kitchen to find Gail.

"How do I look?" I ask her.

"Beautiful," she says, with a smile.

"But you always say that," I sigh.

"Because you're always beautiful."

I roll my eyes, she would say that; she's my step-mom. I give her a hug.

"See you later," I say.

"Have fun," she smiles.

I go into the living room. For the first time today, I take in what Teddy is wearing – black jeans, black leather Palladium boots, and a navy blue pea jacket, which is open so I can see the black sweater that shapes his torso perfectly.

_Oh hot damn… If he was wearing his glasses right now… Mmm._

I really don't appreciate these comments from you.

_But what you _do_ appreciate is that tight sweater._

"I am underdressed? Where are we going exactly?" I ask him, feeling my face go red because of my inner musings. He's dressed like a runway model and I'm here looking like I'm heading to the grocery store. I'm wearing jeans, Converse shoes, a grey long sleeve t-shirt, a marl grey zip-up hoodie and my black leather jacket.

"You're perfect," he smiles. "I don't have an exact plan, I just thought we'd start at Pike Place Market and go from there."

At first I think the market is a strange place for a date. Then I remember this isn't a date. And he's probably taking me there because he knows it's one of my favourite places. Although, I haven't been in a long time… Well, from memory at least.

Around the front of the house, I see the 4x4. I climb into the back seat next to Anouk who's comfortably lounging in her car seat, smiling up at Cooper who's sitting in the driver's seat but has twisted himself around to play with her.

"Morning, Cooper," I say.

"Morning, Miss Sophie," he smiles.

Teddy climbs in on the other side of Anouk's seat. I am introduced quickly to Angel McCarthy, who sits in the passenger seat. Like all members of the security team he is built like brick. My father called him yesterday, he's now Teddy's personal bodyguard. I wonder why Teddy didn't have a bodyguard before - but then I could imagine Teddy being able to convince everyone that he didn't need one. Well, he definitely needs one now.

"Pike Place, please Cooper," Teddy says.

* * *

It is rather chilly. Even with Anouk secured to my chest in her carrier, giving me some warmth. And even as I carefully sip my Starbucks caramel macchiato, I can't keep from shivering every now and then. The uneasy feeling in my stomach doesn't help anything, either. I don't know if it has to do with the news from yesterday, or because I am on the receiving end of _many _glances and stares. Teddy doesn't look fazed at all. I look back at Cooper and McCarthy who follow several paces behind us, they look calm enough. But I still pull Anouk as close to me as I can.

We stroll through the crafts market in the main arcade, and I find myself pointing out everything that is the same, and everything that is different. Teddy explains when they had changed. I'm happy to see at my favourite store is still here.

"This is your favourite?" Teddy asked. I am surprised he doesn't know.

"Yes," I say, looking upon the blown glass objects. "I used to ask my father to take me here just to look at the different colours of the bowls and the shapes. I only ever bought one thing though. It was a glass seahorse – it was purple, blue and pink."

"Why didn't you ever get anything else?"

"I don't know," I shrug.

"You should get something," he says.

"You think?" I ask. "Maybe we could put it in the apartment."

He blinks at me for a two seconds, before nodding in agreement, as if it were unusual for me to suggest such a thing.

I scan over the colours, before my eyes land on a medium sized bowl – I could imagine it being used as a fruit bowl. But, I liked it because of the colour – powder blue marbled with bright blue. The light cast shadows around it, making the whole thing look like water.

"That one," I say.

"Your favourite colours," Teddy mutters, as the man behind the counter, wraps the bowl carefully for us.

I purse my lips – I know my favourite colour to be black, but I guess it changed at some point.

Teddy carries the bag for me, and we wonder around, whilst I ask him random questions; his favourite colour, favourite drink and food, favourite animal, actor, and sportsman, that sort of thing. And eventually I find myself asking him about my favourites. There seems to be an equal amount of things that have changed as things that have stayed the same.

I remember the first time my father took me to the market. It was simply enchanting. I had pretended that I was walking around a magical market, as if I was in _Harry_ _Potter_ or something. I imagined that there were fairies in the air and flowers on the ground, and I all the things on sale were treasures found on remote places of the earth, and that each item held its own story. That actually quiet embarrassing to think about now, but I tell Teddy all this, anyway. Surprisingly I feel quite comfortable telling him this, and he doesn't show signs that he thinks I am crazy, but smiles instead.

This time I know that these aren't magical items, but for some reason I have the same strange feeling of wonderment inside me, just like the very first time. I am glad that I am here with Teddy. Having him here makes me feel grown up, as I'm here with someone else that isn't my father. But it isn't as intimidating as coming to a place so special to me, with a _complete_ stranger. I'm a glad it's Teddy.

We find a stall that sells knitted headbands and pick out two little ones for Anouk. One with a crochet flower, and one with a bow. We then see a store selling children's clothes made from fleece material. Teddy laughs at how thrilled I am to find a grey, teddy bear all-in-one, complete with bear ears and tail. He laughs harder when I said that I'll make Anouk wear it all the time. But he say I am going overboard when I insist on getting a similar bear hat for her, but in brown. I respond to him with a threat to hunt down a larger sized bear onesie and make him wear it, if he doesn't stop teasing me. He holds up his hands in surrender and even puts the hat on her straight away, and agrees that it is cute.

Her little arms reached up to explore the new item on her head, as if she's never wore a hat before. She wore a hat the other day to the restaurant, so it must be the soft material that fascinates her. Her tiny hands play with the buttons sewn on it, for eyes and a nose of the bear. Then she reaches further up and finds the ears, she squealed with delight.

"Clever little girl," Teddy laughs.

I laugh with him, but stop quickly when Anouk's squeal turns into a giggle. A real giggling laugh. A spectacular tinkling sound. A sound that makes all other noise seem like clanging cymbals.

I feel something stirring inside of me. Much like when Teddy looked at me during our first conversation in the hospital, after I woke up. I feel lighter – lifted. And for the first time in weeks I feel like everything is going to be okay.

I look up at Teddy. I hadn't realised that we were standing so close. I have watched enough romance movies to know this part.

_Lean up. And press your mouth to his._

That part of me tells me to kiss him – she wants to.

His stares down at me. His blue eyes bore right into mine. The longer I look the more I get lost in them. Like getting hopelessly pulled further out into the sea, and you can't fight the current and swim back to shore. But then you realise that you don't want to go back, you just want to drift along and let the waves take you away – away from all the chaos and noise.

I lean towards him and lift my heels off the ground, just the tiniest bit, barely noticeable.

But then I stop.

My hands are shaking.

And my heart is beating twice as fast as usual.

I can't.

_Yes, you can._

No, I can't. It's too soon. I'm trying to get my head around… _all this. _Half of me wants to kiss him and the other half thinks it's too soon, and I'll be so overwhelmed afterwards.

I think it's best to wait until all of me is sure.

I feel like he can see the inner conflict in my eyes, so I look away. And I think, he wants to as well – to kiss me, I mean. My heels are still slightly lifted off the floor, so I step past him swiftly.

I think I hear him let out a long sigh, as if he was holding his breathe. When I have my back to him I squeeze my eyes shut for a second or two, and compose myself.

_Coward._

Shut up, Extrovert. Just shut up.

When I open my eyes, I something on a stall table catches my eye. It's a thick, A4-sized, leather wrap notebook. I take a glance at Teddy who has now wondered to a different stall nearby, I imagine he's taking a moment to himself, perhaps moment to breathe. He's not looking in this direction, so I stroll over and pick up the notebook. It is quiet heavy for a journal, because of it thickness. The sale's lady starts explaining to me about how it is handmade, with hand torn pages made from recycled materials. I run my hand over the smooth dark leather, the light brown orangey strap wraps around the book several times to hold it shut.

I glance behind me again, Teddy is still looking at the other table, a salesman is taking to him, he nods but I can tell he's not really listening.

"How much?" I ask.

"$30" she says. "It's good quality."

I've seen my bank statement recently, and let's just say I have a lot of money to spare, so I don't mind spending so much on a special notebook for a present. I quickly go into my wallet and find the right amount of cash, and hand it over before sliding the notebook into the paper bag that I was already holding, with Anouk's clothes. I turn around and Teddy still hasn't seen anything. I head over to him.

For a second I just stand next to him. Then I gently slip my arm through his. He looks at me then. I look back, and I imagine that my facial expression is almost apologetic. He doesn't need to say anything, I can already tell what he wants to say: there's nothing to be sorry for.

* * *

I can see Teddy's eyes scan over a particular section of the wall, of Bubblegum Alley. I think he's trying to be inconspicuous, but I can see his eyes sweep right to left and back again.

"We've been here before haven't we?" I say. "Together, I mean."

"Yes," he sighs.

"Where did we put our gum?" I say.

"It's gone," he shrugs. "Covered up by other people's."

"Oh, that's kind of hard to avoid, I guess" I say. "Well I guess, we'll just have to put on new ones."

I dig into my purse, and find a pack of gum. It's not brightly colour bubblegum, but it'll do.

I give one to Teddy, and pop one in my mouth. Anouk's little arm reaches out for the pack in my hand, with a little whine coming from her mouth. She wants some too.

"You're too young, Annie," I coo at her. "You've not even got teeth yet."

When will she be getting teeth? I should really read up on baby development. I've taken care of loads of kids, but I don't know _everything._

"Annie?" Teddy asks.

"Urr, yeah," I murmur sheepishly. "It kind of just happened."

He continues to chew silently for a moment.

"Annie," he says, after a while, testing it out. "I like it."

I feel a grin spread across my face. I'm surprised by how happy I am just from him liking the nickname I've chosen.

"It's very fitting," he continues. "Did you know my grandpa Ray calls my mom Annie?"

"No," I say. "I've never really had a nickname - not one that really sticks anyway."

"Penelope calls you 'Soph' sometimes."

"Yes, _sometimes_. And you used to call me 'Soeee'"

"That was when I was very very little. And I couldn't say you're name properly."

_Oh my god. He's blushing._

"You know, you're the only one who still calls me Teddy. Well, except for mom when she's feeling nostalgic."

"Really?"

From what I remember there were still other's calling him Teddy.

"When I was about 14, I demanded that everyone stop calling me Teddy. Because I thought it was embarrassing. But you refused to call me anything else - it made me so annoyed." He laughs.

"Sorry," I mutter.

"It's okay. I've come to love that you call me Teddy"

"Whose idea was it to nickname you Ted or Teddy, from Theodore?"

"My dad, I think."

"I was about to say that it's funny how, serious and stern, Christian Grey nicknamed you something so cute. But then I remembered the nickname my serious and stern dad had for me when I was a toddler."

"I didn't know your dad had a nickname for you!" he says. "What is it?"

"_Polpetta," _I say, feeling my face heat up.

"What does that mean?"

"Meatball."

He looks at me like he can't believe it.

"I was a fat baby, okay?" I laugh. "I guess I'm lucky nicknames don't stick with me."

Teddy bursts out laughing - it takes him about 5 minutes for him to stop.

* * *

"Okay, you go first," I say, grinning across the table at Teddy.

After the little 'to-kiss-or-not-to-kiss' incident, everything was looking up. It was the Bubblegum Alley that _really _broke the tension. Anouk's little laugh rang out loudly and frequently. Teddy and I had long light-hearted conversations. And if the conversation died down, one of us would make a funny comment on something we saw, the other would laugh, and then the conversation would strike up again.

I haven't stop smiling in hours.

We picked up a few more items, including a bright blue ceramic piggy bank with a large cork snout – another item for the apartment, we could put loose change in it. Then I also found a little bear statue made from volcanic ash, which I thought was pretty cool. I also bought some soaps and creams made with honey. Along with a jar of honey in the shape of a bear. We even strolled through the farmers market, and Teddy showed off his basic Italian by naming some foods he knew. And I taught him some he didn't. Then Teddy led me into at least half a dozen different bakeries, and I swear we bought at least one of everything. We even picked up some cakes for both our parents.

Then we finally sat down to have some lunch, at _Café Campagne_. Anouk had made a loud protesting sound when I had tried to take off her hat, but other than that it was a lovely meal. The interior was rather quaint, and I liked the feeling that came with having conversations whilst hidden away in little nooks and crannies of the city.

After our meal we picked at some of the small pastries we have bought. When Teddy realised I had bought some bear claw donuts he accused me of being an 'arctophile'. Which he said means that I'm very fond of teddy bears. I had to agree with him; they're cute - I used to have loads of them when I was younger. But I said that he was a pistoriophile – because he loves cakes and pastries. He didn't argue either. So that started this little game.

"Don't say bibliophile," I warn. "That one's obvious…. Not logophile either."

"Pluviophile," he says, after a thought.

Rain lover.

"Really?" I ask, crinkling my nose a little.

"There's just something about the rain that makes me comfortable," he smiles.

"Okay," I say. "Umm… astrophile."

I like the stars. Even if we can't always see them much here. He nods.

"Enophile," he says.

"What's that?"

"Wine lover," he smirks.

"Of course," I laugh. With his family background, I'm not surprised that he likes a good wine. "Nyctophile"

He purse his lips, and frowns a little.

"If nyctophilia is a word, then nyctophile should be one," I insist.

"Alright, alright," he concedes. "If you can say nyctophile, then I can say ceraunophile. Ceraunophobia is a word, so ceraunophile is the opposite."

"Okay, fine. Ceraunophile goes hand-in-hand with pluviophile, I guess," I sigh. "Selenophile."

"That goes hand-in-hand with astrophile," he says. "But I don't think it's a real word."

"I'm sure these are all real words."

"I think ceraunophile, nyctophile and selenophile are socially accepted, but aren't in the dictionary. I'm not even sure arctophile and pistoriophile are in the dictionary."

"Selenophile is definitely in the dictionary," I argue. "Selene is the Greek moon goddess. Selenophile – moon lover – is definitely in the dictionary."

"I guess, we'll have to go find out."

"Hmm?"

"Time to visit my favourite store now."

"Oh," I say.

We stand up, and Teddy takes Anouk from me, saying it is his turn to carry her. I'm grateful for because my shoulders are starting to ache. We would have just brought the stroller from the car, but it was probably easier to carry her than to manoeuvre a stroller her in and out of stores and up and down every aisle, and with all our shopping bags.

Teddy leads me onto First Avenue, then along to Pike Street.

"Left Bank Books," I read.

"Probably my favourite store in Seattle," he says.

He grabs my hand and pulls me inside. I don't know what it is this time, because he's touched me before, but this time something that feels uncannily alike to an electric shock or static shoots up my arm. I am almost surprised there wasn't a sparking sound. Though, Teddy continues to pull me into the store like didn't notice anything.

Perhaps only I felt it.

I take a minute to glance around. The interior is surprisingly colourful. It's small and a little tight. The shelves on either side of the entrance and cramped to the ceiling with all sorts of books. And where there aren't books there are posters stuck up on the walls. Ahead of us is a set of stairs leading to the second and third floor, and along the staircase banner are shirts hanging on display.

Teddy gives my hand a squeeze before leading me up to the second floor, and straight to a particular shelf. He lets go of my hand and plucks a thick volume from the shelf the word 'DICTIONARY' is written in large bold letters along the binding.

I smile and pick up a different version and try looking up some of the words. We end up checking each version of the dictionary to see if words are there – 'pluviophile', 'astrophile' and 'enophile' or 'oenophile' were in most of them. 'Arctophile' was found once, but the other words weren't found at all. So Teddy wins 3 to 1.

I suddenly let out a laugh.

"What's so funny?" he asks.

"We're so nerdy," I giggle, as I put the dictionary back on the shelf. "I mean, I'm a mathematician of sorts. And you're a book worm. And we're spending our first date playing word games and looking through dictionaries."

"Second first," he murmurs, I am not sure if he's correcting me, or muttering to himself.

"I thought this wasn't a date," he says, louder this time.

_Ha. Ha._

Ahh…

"Well… Urm… I guess… I don't know… Maybe," I babble.

_Well done. You look like an idiot. How sexy._

I'm not trying to be sexy.

_Are you sure?_

"So this is like a… maybe date?" he asks.

I suddenly feel a little giddy, and I feel my mouth turn into a smirk.

"Maybe," I say, as I turn on my heels, and wonder over to a different shelf. I can feel my hips swinging a little more than they usually do.

Then I snap out of it.

Oh my god, what am I doing?!

_Flirting, Introvert, you are flirting._

Before I participate in any further acts of stupidity, I walk back to the stairs and head up to the top floor. I wonder over to a bookcase and pretend to be looking at what is in front of me.

A few seconds later he comes to stand behind me – quite close behind me.

He leans forward reaching in front of me to point to a fat book with a white cover.

"This is an amazing book," he says.

'_The Seven Basic Plots' _by Christopher Booker. I turn to face him.

"Booker spent a long time on it – 34 years, I think," Teddy says. "Many people don't think it's viable. But I think he's a genius."

"You've read _all_ of it?" I ask.

"Yes," he nods, like it's nothing.

I wonder over to a bench by the windows, there's cushions and bookshelves either side – it's cosy.

"What is it about?" I ask.

He goes on to tell me all about it. We sat there I mostly listened to him talk, about the books and authors be liked, and the ones he loved, and the ones he didn't like so much. And then he told me why he liked them or didn't like them. And I couldn't help myself: I hung on every word that came out of his mouth. I couldn't take my eyes off his. I have not seen so much passion in anyone's eyes, just talking about the thing they love. His were so bright and wide and filled with wonderment.

Beautiful.

* * *

Anouk had fallen asleep and we managed to take off her new hat without a fuss. By the time she woke up is was 3 o'clock.

As a sort of prize for winning the word game Teddy got to pick were we went next – absolutely anywhere – and I would go without protest – even if he decided to take us to China, although I know he wouldn't decide that because my father wants me back before midnight.

We headed to the car and dropped our shopping inside, I thought we'd be driving somewhere. But Teddy pulled out Anouk's stroller and put her in it.

I place my hand in his and let him lead me. We ended up at Seattle Aquarium. The last time I remember coming here I was 19 and babysitting Daisy and Pippa who were about 4 or 5, and Teddy had come along as well claiming that he was helping me.

I always thought time flies when you're having fun. They say so. And usually it does. But not today. Today feels long and peaceful - the ticking hand on my watch is being patient. It's feels like the slow days of summer break during childhood, compared to the much faster summer break when you're older.

For just a few hours I forget about Jack Hyde, and the car crash, and my lost memories. I forget about the scar on my face, and the stares and glances of people passing by. I forget about the 13 year old boy named Teddy Grey that I used to know. I even forget about Cooper and McCarthy who were trailing not 10 paces behind us.

For just a few hours there is just me, this man in front of me, the laughing baby girl, and Seattle. Nothing else. Just us and this day.


	15. And Candle-Light

**A/N: This chapter contains **_**Into The Woods **_**spoilers. Not major ones, but spoilers none the less. So I apologise if you were planning on watching the movie or something. Also, I just wanted to say I've put a few direct quotations from the movie - I do not own them. James Lapine wrote the screenplay and book. The lyrics at the end of this chapter are a simplified version of the song 'No One is Alone' - music and lyrics by Stephen Sondheim. The scenes mentioned can be found as clips on YouTube.**

**Anyhoo, on with the chapter...**

* * *

**Sophie**

By six o'clock we were in the car heading home. Teddy sat in the middle this time. I nibbled on some more cakes as Teddy fed Anouk her dinner – milk that I pumped yesterday afternoon, so there was only a little bit of fuss.

"Hey," Teddy says softly, calling my attention to him. "You have… urmm…"

He carefully reaches over and places his hand on my cheek. My heart decides to accelerate at this point. His thumb gently strokes the corner of my mouth. When he removes his hand there's icing sugar on his thumb, and I feel like I'm missing something, and I don't mean the icing sugar. We stare at each other for a moment.

_Maybe you should purposely put more food on your face, so he can put his hands on you again._

That's just stupid.

"Thanks," I mutter.

He gives me a slight nod in return.

But we continue to stare at each other some more.

Shit. Do I look away?

_Snuggle?_

Look away?

_Kiss?_

Look away?

_Make out?_

Look away.

"I have something for you," I say so quickly the words almost merge together.

"Oh?"

When Teddy was putting the stroller in the boot, I managed to grab the bag with the journal in it and kept it beside me. I break eye contact when I turn to pull out the heavy leather journal. I suddenly feel a little nervous.

What if he doesn't like it?

_Oh, shut up, and give it to him._

I hand it to him.

"I thought you could use it as a journal," I said. "When I was exploring the apartment I saw you kept a few."

I watch as his fingers open it and flick through the pages.

"I didn't read them though," I quickly reassure him. I've heard it's something of a rule to not read someone's journal unless invited to do so.

"Thank you," he says. "You really didn't have to get me anything."

"I wanted to say thank you," I mumble. "Thanks for… _everything."_

I watch as he pauses for a while. It looks like he wants to say something but doesn't.

"You're welcome," he says, so quietly I almost don't hear it.

I lean towards him and rest my head on his shoulder. I do it before I even realise I've done it. It feels like second nature to me. I've been resting my head on his shoulder ever since he reached my own height – maybe when he was 12 or 13, he was always quite tall. It was only friendly, of course. And I guess I might have done it throughout his teen years – still friendly. Or perhaps I didn't – teens can be quite grumpy, he might have not liked me leaning on him. But I do assume I would have still done it when we were together as a couple. Possibly a little more romantic than friendly.

I realise that the idea that there was romance between us is a lot easier to accept now than it was just a couple of days ago.

For the rest of the journey I wonder whether this time is romantic or friendly. It feels friendly. But different. Perhaps because Teddy gently brushes his fingertips across the side of my head where I shaved yesterday, it feels nice on my scalp. Is this what romance feels like?

"Did I tell you that I like your new hair?" he says, when we pull into the drive of the big house.

"Yes," I smile. "Several times."

We head inside and I'm surprised when Teddy picks up Anouk's car seat/carrier and changing bag. They must be staying for dinner.

Inside the little house is so warm. McCarthy and Cooper carry in our shopping. My dad and Gail are lounging on the sofas in the living room.

"Did you have fun?" my dad asks.

"Yes," Teddy and I say together.

Teddy's chats to my parents, as I head over to the kitchen. Cooper left our bakery purchases on the counter so I sort through them, and separate some for my parents, Teddy's parents, and some for Teddy to take home with him. I can't resist popping one or two mini donuts into my mouth.

"Hungry?" Teddy asks, suddenly behind me.

"A little," I say. "Are you staying for dinner?"

"Maybe."

I turn to face him.

"Maybe?"

"Maybe I'll stay for a lovely dinner with you and your parents and Anouk. Or maybe you decide that today is a romantic date rather than a social one, and I take you out to dinner and a movie, just you and me."

Oh hell. A dinner date.

I purse my lips and don't say anything.

Is it just me or is it getting warm in here?

_Nervous much? What happened to all the flirting?_

"Urmm…"

Okay, do I actually _want _to go?

_Yes._

Maybe.

_Maybe, the only reason why you're saying 'maybe' is because you're trying to find reasons not to go._

And why would I do that?

_Because it's easier that way… You're probably making him nervous._

"What about Anouk?" I ask.

"She's spending time with her Nonno and Nonna," he says. "They said they'd love to watch her, whilst we go out. She'll probably be sleeping mostly anyway."

"Urmm…"

_Oh. My. God! Stop being stupid, grow a pair, and say: Yes, sounds good, I would love go to dinner with you, you beautiful and wonderful man._

"Yes, sounds good, I would love to go to dinner with you, you beautiful and wonderful man," I blurt.

_Good little Introvert._

I can almost feel my subconscious patting my head like a puppy.

Then it really hits me what I just said to him. I glance up and he looks a little shocked and is staring at me wide eyed.

"Give me a minute," I say, before running out of the kitchen and up to my room.

Oh my god. Oh my god. Ohmygod. Ohmygodohmygod. What the fuck?! What's wrong with me today? Like first I was about to kiss him after Anouk laughed, then the flirting in the library, now this.

_What's done is done._

This is all your fault.

_I don't think it is. I think it is Teddy's fault. Tell me you didn't feel good after the flirting._

No.

_Yes you did._

Okay I did. A little. I felt giddy. And excited. And… refreshed?

_He's bringing it out of you – he's bringing _me _out of you. Now stop fussing, we have a dinner date to attend._

I sigh. She has a point – what's done is done. I just agreed to go to dinner with him, and I can't take back what I just said. So I might as well just get on with it.

I glance at myself in the mirror. The wind made my hair a little messier so I run a brush through it. I apply more red lipstick, which I'm starting to love. I wonder whether I should change into something nicer. Then I realise that all I brought with me were t-shirts, jeans, and sweatpants – my nicer clothes are at the apartment. I sigh and head back downstairs. I can hear Gail laughing from the sofa.

My dad is bouncing Anouk on his knee and she's giggling hysterically. Someone's changed her into her new bear onesie. I giggle too: she's adorable.

"McCarthy is staying here," my dad says. "So you'll be only be with Cooper. Be careful."

"I always am," I say.

_Except for that time when Jack Hyde tried to rape and kill you._

Hmm.

"Anyway," I say. "See you later".

I take Teddy's hand and pull him towards the door.

"Don't do anything stupid," my dad calls. "And remember: back before midnight."

We're only going to for dinner. I don't understand what he thinks we'll be doing that will take us past midnight.

"Okay Papa," I sigh heavily.

I pull a smirking Teddy out the door and into the car beside me. I keep hold of his hand, as Cooper pulls out of the drive. There something quite… warm, about holding his hand.

"Where are we going exactly?" I ask Teddy.

"Not too far," is all he says.

He was right, after a short while Cooper stops the car. It's changed a little bit, but I'm still able to recognise the Ballard area.

I climb out of the car, and feel a slight emptiness inside me, for the first time today. I turn to face Teddy.

"Are you sure Anouk will be okay?" I ask him.

"She'll be just fine, Sophie," he says.

"But what if - "

Teddy interrupts me before get to list every possible disaster that could possibly happen – from her falling ill to the eruption of any of the five active volcanoes in Washington.

"You worry too much. Your parents are with her, my parents are right next door, and McCarthy are with them too," he says. "The likelihood of something happening is low. And other than you and I, I wouldn't leave her with anyone other than our parents… or maybe Phoebe. Besides, we'll be back in a few hours."

"Okay," I concede, with a sigh.

A light wind blows, and I shiver against the cold. I should have grabbed a scarf before we left.

"Cold?" he asks.

"Nope," I say.

But he must know I'm lying because he pulls off his scarf anyway, and wraps it around my neck.

"I don't want _you _to get cold," I protest.

"I don't feel cold," he says with a smile.

"Well, you will now that you've given me your scarf."

He just gives me a look that says 'stop being silly, and accept the scarf'.

"Okay," I sigh, feeling how soft the material is. It's still has his warmth on it. And it smells like him. Like grass and earth and fresh air. "But you should know, you probably won't ever get it back."

_Are you going to keep it as the first piece of your creepy shrine to him?_

I ignore her mean comments.

"That's not a problem."

He smiles and takes my hand. He brings it up to his mouth, and places a very gentle kiss on my knuckles. For the second time today a tinkling sensation ran up my arm, resonating from where he touched me – like liquid warmth entering my blood stream.

"Let's eat," he says. Our joined hands fall between us, as he leads me a little way down the street. The mental image of us sitting at a small square table with a thick, white table cloth across it flashes across my mind. I supress a shudder as he pulls me along. And I try to look on the bright side, because I am really hungry.

A few steps along, we stop in front of a building. I take in the size of the place and the sign in the window that says _'Li'l Woody's'. _I see square tables, but that's the only similarity to the nightmare I had in mind. No white linen table cloths, no waiters dressed in tuxedos, no carpeted floors that make it almost impossible to tuck your chair in, and no sign of those weird origami-swan-shaped-napkin-thingies.

"Is this okay?" Teddy asks.

_Okay? This is great._

I almost cry out in relief.

"Yes," I say, as I pull us inside.

The far wall is white tiles and says "WHATS UP BALLARD" in big black letters.

"What do you want?" he asks.

"What's good?"

He turns and blinks at me for a second.

"You've not been here?" he asks. "Well, you've been here but I thought you might have gone when you were a kid or something – I don't know why I thought that actually. Probably just because most of the things you love resonate from your childhood and teen years. Anyways, I'm gibbering on… I'm just saying, according to you these are the best burgers in the city."

"You don't agree?" I ask.

"I think I still prefer_ IHOP."_

I let out a laugh.

"I thought you were a rich kid, and eats burgers that cost no less $20."

"I suppose you think I might eat it with a knife and fork too."

"Perhaps, but that might be a little wasteful".

"Paying $20 or more for a burger is wasteful," he laughs. "But it doesn't matter, I like the taste of _IHOP,_ it tastes like… childhood. My dad used to take us when we were kids, as a treat."

"Really? I didn't know that. I didn't think Christian Grey was the _IHOP _type."

"No one would suspect it. But he tends to surprise a lot of people. Even me sometimes."

Talking about Mr Grey reminds me that I have to go and talk to him soon enough, I make a mental note to myself to think about it later.

"So," I say, "what do I usually get?"

"You vary. But the 'Cap Hill Friend Chicken Sandwich is your favourite. But never 'The Trotter' burger – you don't like that one."

"Okay then. Chicken sandwich it is. With added bacon. And Cheese… Fries on the side… And a vanilla milkshake."

When I look up at Teddy, I'm taken by surprise when I see he's looking at me much like the way he did when we were back at the hospital – the kind of look that makes my stomach flutter. Although this time there's a little sadness in his eyes.

My heart jumps for a sad Teddy. It always has, even when we were kids. But this time it feels different – heavier somehow, like it is deep-seated in my bones.

"What's wrong?" I hastily ask.

I think back and wonder if I said something wrong.

"Nothing," he shakes his head, and rearranges his features into a small smile.

He gives out order to the man at the counter. I pull out my shiny black credit card, but before I can give it to our server Teddy grabs my wrist and moves my hand to my side. I see him get his card out. I pass my card to my free hand and push his away. Teddy tuts as I giggle. Before our server can take it Teddy does and shoves it into his pocket. But I'm just as fast as he is and yank it out again. Teddy huffs and grabs both my wrists, pulls then together and holds them both firmly in one hand.

I'm still giggling like a school girl for some reason. He pays using his own card. The server doesn't look impressed by our antics. I realise we must look ridiculous – two grown adults messing around like children. But then I realise that I really don't care.

Somehow I'm become tucked into Teddy's side, his arms still around me holding my wrists, almost like his arm is slung over my shoulders.

"Stop being naughty," he murmurs into my hair, as he lets go of my wrists.

I grin up at him, he returns a wide smile – the sadness now gone from his eyes.

He leads me to a table. He moves his chair to sit beside me instead of opposite.

"Why were you upset before?" I ask.

"Really it's nothing. I don't even know if I was really _upset, _or something else. "

I cross my arms over my chest.

"Please tell me," I say.

I can see him contemplate whether he should tell me or not.

"It might sound stupid to you," he mutters, "but I miss you."

"I'm here," I frown.

"I know. I miss going out with you, and messing around with you. I miss going for meals and you ordering half the menu. And I miss walking into a new place and the first thing you do is look around to see where the fire exit is."

I feel my face heat up. I can't believe he notices I do that. My father always told me to do that – always safe.

"I miss you so much," he says.

I don't know what to say. I don't even know what I'm doing with him – I mean, I've been on dates, yes, but relationships? Never been in a real relationship. I never wanted marriage, but I wasn't totally opposed to being in a relationship, as long as it wasn't serious. It was the commitment that I didn't want. I guess I never really thought it through that much - perhaps I shouldn't really have been dating at all. I have commitment issues and now I'm here trying to slide myself into a marriage that I don't remember.

_One small step at a time, remember? Stop thinking so big. You're here and now._

"It's only been a few weeks," I say.

"I know. But it feels like forever."

What do I say now?

_Say how you feel._

I've never been good with that.

_Weren't you?_

What's that supposed to mean?

_You did just fine the other day. And yesterday._

I guess.

"It's so strange," I say. "You say you miss me, but it's not really me. I mean it is; but it isn't. You miss who I was before the accident, but I don't know who she was. I wish I could remember – I _really _do... And you can tell me a lot of it. But, let's be honest, we only know her surface – and I've been told why, I understand. But I thought that at least you might have known how she felt on the inside. But out of everyone I do think you know the most."

"I did. A little bit. I could tell. You struggled much more than you let people see. What happened with Jack really got to you, so did your mother's absence. You covered it up, of course, and distracted yourself. I wanted to help, but you wouldn't let me in. You wouldn't let anybody in."

"That's why I don't understand, most of all. We are _married. _I've attached myself to you – and you say not because of Anouk, but because I loved you. So fair enough, I loved you, so I married you. But I couldn't let you in? How does that work? How does that even make sense?"

"Honestly, I don't know. For a long time I didn't think it was that important. I was stupid to think so."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because when I began asking questions – much later than I should have – you shut me out. I couldn't help but think that maybe..."

"Maybe?"

"Maybe, as much as you said you loved me…" He trails off. But his words are like a slap in the face. I've never seen him seem so vulnerable or unsure of himself. He was much like his father when it came to confidence – always so sure.

"Stop that," I sigh. How do I phrase this now? "If I consider _you. _Just you. If I forget your name and age. If I forget who I knew you to be. If I forget about being married and having a child, and I just consider _you. _Then the idea that I loved you – that I was _in love_ with you – is very easy to believe."

"So you believe it?"

"I think it may be the easiest thing to believe out of everything that I've been told since I woke up."

It's just the other way around that I have trouble with. If I didn't let him in, then how well did he really know who he was married to?

* * *

The burgers are good. Like _really_ good. While we eat Teddy talks about the food we had the times I took him to Italy. Yes, time_s,_ plural. The first time to Praiano - a small town along the Amalfi coast, where some of my family originate from – I took him, Phoebe and Ava, the summer before Teddy's senior year of high school, as a sort of short, teen get-away trip (although I wasn't still a teen then). The second time was during his second year of college – my parents and I were going, and Teddy was always welcome, so he tagged along. The third time was just him and me, the first year of our relationship.

He tells me how he really loves it there, and the food is great. And how each time we stayed in the hotel my family owns and runs, 'Villa Marie'. Named after my great-grandmother. My great-grandfather Carlo, was born and grew up in Praiano, he fell in love with a French woman, Marie. They married and had my Nonna Anouk. But on the birth on their second child, Adele, Marie died. Bisnonno Carlo did his best, and eventually started up his own hotel, and named it after his late wife. He never loved another woman after Bisnonna Marie.

The hotel went to their two daughters after Bisnonno Carlo died. But eventually, Nonna Anouk moved to New York. Adele stayed to take care of it, and Nonna helped mostly with the funding. She married my grandfather Vincent and they had my dad. Then Vincent up and left, leaving my Nonna to raise Papa by herself. Then when my Papa grew up he joined the army, then after a while his girlfriend – my mother, Olivia – got pregnant, so they moved to Seattle, got married, and had me. Although, my dad was in the army when they moved to Seattle. I don't know why they moved – I never asked; by the time I might have been interested I was so angry at my mother that I didn't care to know about my parent's relationship.

_Anyway, _Teddy tells me that my Nonna moved back to Italy not too long before she passed away. I'm glad that she was back home when she died. And the part of the hotel she owned has gone to my dad. Adele is still there, but when she dies I guess it'll go to my dad's cousin, uncle Joseph. It's still only a very small business, not because it's not developing, but because we want to keep it small.

Teddy says, that he often forgets that I'm just as much French as I am Italian. And that I'm more American than the two combined. But because of parental circumstances and the way tradition was passed down through my family, the Italian heritage has always been very prominent. Which I'm very happy about – I do wish some of the French heritage pulled through a little more. I also wish we had better luck in our relationships – things might be a lot easier for me now if we did. I mean, Papa got it the second time around. But when I was little I hoped that I would be the one to 'get it right' so to say – I hoped that I might be the one to have that forever love. Much like Carlo and Marie – but just without one of us dying. I don't voice this to Teddy. I think that this is one of the things that I would have kept to myself.

Anyway, that was a fairy tale wish from a long time ago. And fairy tales aren't real, so it doesn't matter now.

Back to the present, we're still talking about food by the time we leave the diner. The sun was going to down when we left the house, so it's dark outside now. We leave with our joined hands swinging the slightest bit, between us. But this time our fingers are weaved into each other's. And it feels like the most natural thing in the entire world.

Our conversation halts when we come to a stop in front of _Majestic Bay Theatres._

"Movie?"

My eyes flash to the movie posters by the entrance doors. I see one with a couple under a blue cloudless sky _almost_ kissing – romance, not really my thing. I see another with some woman in a pink outfit with a pink luggage bag – chick flick, _definitely_ not my thing. Then another with several people cramped on it, all holding guns of various sizes, and large fire flames in the background – I don't think I'd be able to sit through that one… I almost start wondering if any of the characters on the poster with be dead by the end of the movie.

"We won't be watching any of those," he says, interrupting my thoughts.

"What then?"

"It's a surprise," he smiles.

"You must know that I don't like surprises," I say.

"You'll like this one… Do you trust me?"

I purse my lips for a second or two.

"Yes," I sigh.

"Then trust me when I say that you'll be okay with what I have planned."

I give him a small nod, and clutch his hand as he leads me inside. Behind the counter, there is a petite girl, I'd say she's around 18 or 19 years old, she looks bored as fuck. She looks up as we approach. She eyes widen she takes in Teddy, and tugs on the hem of her blouse, as if to straighten it. Then she leans on the counter resting on her forearms.

_Is this chick serious right now?_

She flexes her biceps just a little, that I almost miss the movement. But I didn't miss it. I most certainly did _not _miss that this bitch just press her boobs together and up, right in front of my…. Urm… my… what are we exactly? I mean _legally _he's my husband… But we're just dating right now.

_So he's your date?_

Okay, that works.

"How can I help you?" she says, in an overly perky voice, smiling widely. Staring only at him, like I'm not even there.

"I have a booking. Under Theodore Grey."

A booking?! He didn't even know if I would agree to come here.

"Th-Theodore… Grey," she stutters. "My managers been expecting you."

The manager…?

_Just go with it. Just go with it._

She gestures to a man in a blue suit who was just about to march right passed us, looking very stressed and annoyed.

"Sir, this is Theodore Grey," she says, to the man I assume is the manager.

He blinks at the both of us looking a little flustered. Then he says:

"Pleased to meet you, sir. I'm Mr Klamm".

_Klamm. Like a clam._

Hehe.

They shake hands. Teddy looks annoyed at Mr Klamm, for some reason.

"This is my _wife,_" Teddy says.

_He said 'wife'._

This relationship defining is becoming rather awkward.

_Not as awkward as relationship defining in _The Mortal Instruments _series._

Ha ha. Good point… Now I feel like reading _The Mortal Instruments, _although I didn't see copies of the books in my old room. Maybe I have them at the apartment, they are my favourite childhood books after all.

_You're going off track…_

"Lovely to meet you," Mr Klamm says, holding out his hand.

We shake… why am I not surprised? His hands are clammy. His hand shake is weak. He gives me a closed lip, strained creepy smile. And his eyes run over my face.

_Ew! Alert! Creepy old dude!_

You'd think that this burn on my face would stop some men from looking at me like I'm the walking talking _Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue _cover. But apparently not.

_I just realised that he's actually probably only a little bit older than you._

Oh, my god! I'm 31 aren't I?

_Yes._

Now I feel like crying.

_Oi bitch! No crying!_

Fine.

"Sophie?" Teddy says.

"Huh?" I say, looking up at him. I realise the two men were probably talking to each other, and I missed their conversation. I also realised I'm against his side, with my arm around his waist.

Woah, when did that happen?

_Does it matter?_

"Do you want something to eat?" he asks.

_We just ate._

Mmmmmm. Foooooood. That will cheer me up.

I nod and look over to the girl again - who is _still_ staring at Teddy, practically drooling.

That fucking bitch.

_Revenge time._

Revenge?

"Definitely, popcorn. A small one."

The girl looks over to me, and blinks, like she just realised that I was here. I can see her eyes run over my scar. And now she looks a little scared of me.

_That's right bitch._

I don't want people to be scared of me!

I raise an eyebrow. She gulps and picks up a small bag.

"Actually, make it a medium," I say.

She puts it down, and goes to pick up a medium bag.

"Wait," I say, turning to Teddy. "Did you want some too? We could share a large if you want?"

"That's a good idea, let's get a large."

"A large then."

She gets our large bag of freshly popped popcorn, with actually butter on it.

"Hummm… Do you want separate drinks? Or just one large?" I ask Teddy.

"I want a Pepsi, so we can share a large Pepsi. Or we can have small drinks if you want something else."

"A large Pepsi is fine." I say. The girl reached for a large cup. "Actually, no I'll have a 7up. So a small Pepsi and a small 7up."

I watch as her hand moves to the small cups.

"Screw it," I say. "A large Pepsi."

She hesitantly picks up a large cup. And she looks really pissed.

_Mwahahaha._

Poor girl.

She gets us our large drink.

"Anything else, baby?" Teddy asks.

"A bag of M&amp;Ms," I say.

"Which kind?" the girl asks.

"The plain chocolate ones."

Wait, did Teddy just call me 'baby'?

_Delayed much?_

I find it strange that no matter how weird it might be for _Teddy_ to be calling _me _baby, as I am older than him, for some reason I don't feel bothered by it – like my ears are used to him calling me that, and aren't fazed at all. Again, I feel like my body remembers things that my head doesn't.

"Are you sure?" she says, through her teeth.

"Yes," I say, keeping my face serious. "My husband is allergic to peanuts."

Wait, 'husband'? What happened to 'date'?

_Don't look at me; you're the one who said it._

You're no help at all.

She gives us our stuff – and I was prepared this time, so I hand her my card before Teddy can blink an eye.

"Hey!" he complains. "I wanted to pay."

"You already paid for everything else today," I say.

"You gave me a notebook…" he mutters.

I just give him a look, as the girl gives me my card back. I tuck it into my pocket. And plaster a fake kind smile on my face.

"Thank you, sweet girl," I say. She glares back at me. I pick up the drink and M&amp;Ms and Teddy carries the popcorn.

We follow Mr Clammy Hands.

"Oh, my god," I mutter quietly to myself. "I am a terrible person."

Teddy is smirking. I think he heard me.

"Oh, shut up," I tell him.

He laughs. "I didn't say anything."

"You're smirking…. Loudly."

"_I'm smirking loudly_?"

"Oh, shut up," I pout.

It just makes him laugh harder.

"You're cute when you're jealous, you know that?"

"Okay one, did you just call me 'cute'? Excuse me, sir, but I am _anything but cute. _And two, jealous of what? That _infant_?"

Nothing I say is helping me, it's only feeding his laughter for some reason.

"It's not funny!" I complain.

Which of course makes him laugh harder. I'm surprised he hasn't dropped our popcorn.

I stop talking, and give him a glare. He abruptly stops laughing, and gives me a shy smile.

_Aww, now that's what you call cute._

I know, right.

I return the smile.

"Here we are," Mr Klamm says. "Everything is all set up."

"Thank you," Teddy says.

"I hope you enjoy your movie."

"Thank you," I grin.

He smiles back.

_Maybe his smile is just naturally creepy._

That's not a very nice thing to say.

I'm suddenly pulled forward, by Teddy's arm that is around my waist. He gives Mr Klamm a dirty look. And hurries us a long, as if he was desperate to put distance between us and him.

Inside the theatre from, the small lights on the side are on.

"Where do we sit?" I ask.

"Anywhere you want," Teddy says.

I only just then realise that there's no one else here yet.

We end up sat in the middle of the room, and make ourselves comfortable.

"Are you going to tell me what we're watching now?"

"_Into The Woods,_" he answers

"Okay."

_Ahum ahum hum._

"Wait," I said. "That came out years ago. They don't show it in cinemas anymore."

He just smirks, that damned Teddy smirk that I've have recently become so accustomed to.

He turns around, and gives a quick nod to Cooper who's sitting in the back row –

_Wait, Cooper? When did he get here?_

I don't know, I thought he was… I don't know where he was. But suddenly he's here. Do you think he '_disapparated'_?

_Yes, that's it, idiot! Automatically assume that he's a wizard. How very mature of you._

That doesn't matter right now. Papa would not be pleased if he knew that one, I lost track of where my bodyguard went, and didn't even wonder about it. And two, that there was a third person in the theatre with us and I didn't even know… But Papa won't find out if I don't tell him. And why would I tell him that I'm being reckless anyway? Do you think Cooper prefers to be referred to as my bodyguard, or my CPO? They're the same thing really. But he might still have a preference. Although, if I called him CPO – as in Close Protection Officer - I might get confused with the other CPO – as in Chief Procurement Officer – at Grey House. Does Mr Grey even have a Chief Procurement Officer? That's a stupid question. He must do. They might have been mentioned in the file. Think, think, think…

My inner monologue is interrupted by a loud high pitched whistle. It came from Teddy. Someone in that little room at the back that's the whistle as a cue. The drapes in front of the screen are pulled away, and the lights go down. All on Teddy's command.

Oh damn, I let my thoughts run off. My mind was peaceful all day, up until now. And I know it has nothing to do with Teddy, or Cooper, or the movie. I think it's because I got angry at that girl, and now I've suddenly found myself on a rollercoaster, surging forwards, and up, and down. Not because of _her _but because it was the first time I felt _really _pissed off all day. And it just set me off.

I stop thinking too hard, sit back in my seat and try to relax.

"You okay?" Teddy asks.

I look over to him. He looks at me like he's so worried, it's quite touching really. And suddenly I really am okay.

"Yeah," I say.

True to his word, the movie stars with James Corden's voice saying:

"_Once upon a time, in a far-off kingdom there lay a small village at the edge of the woods…"_

Then the joyful music starts.

I quickly lean over to Teddy and say:

"Okay, I have to ask: _How?"_

In the darkness I can barely make out that his smile, and gesture to himself.

"Rich kid," he says.

I feel a slow and easy smile spread across my face, as I look back to the screen.

Teddy had said that it was my favourite movie, and I can see why. It's probably not for everyone, but I found it thoroughly entertaining. It's funny in a silly childish way, which makes sense because it's a Disney movie. However, I almost peed myself laughing at the melodramatic 'Agony' song, I ended up kicking the seat in front of me.

And it being a Disney movie, there's barely any violence. And the only parts that one might consider violent are done with fairy tale creatures, like giants and a child-eating wolf, and even that you can hardly call 'violent'. And also, are done with very little CGI, which I guess was because - I think - it was originally a Broadway production, and it was reminiscent of that.

But I'm sure that's not why it's my favourite. I think it's because I relate to the youngest female character – Little Red Riding Hood. And not just because she eats a lot, or because she learns what she does the hard way, and comes out a little smarter each time. But because that small doubt she has towards the end of the movie.

"_I think my granny and my mother would be upset with me," _she says.

"_Why?" _Cinderella asks.

"_They said to always make them proud. And here I am about to kill somebody."_

"_Not somebody. A giant, who's done a lot of harm."_

"_But a giant's a person. Aren't we to show forgiveness?"_

Then Cinderella goes on to sing, what I realise is the song I hummed to Anouk to get her to sleep. The lyrics are familiar to me, even though I've never heard them before. And I realise that it's a very strange song for me to sing to Anouk – considering one, it's a duet, and two, the first line is "Mother cannot guide you", and another line is "Mother isn't here now". Why would I sing that to her, even if she's only 4 months and doesn't understand anything I say to her?

Other than my confusion over my choice of song, the movie really is quite uplifting. And I was always quite fond of a really good musical.

"Okay, but you didn't even know if we'd be going out for dinner or staying in, let alone that I'd agree to go to the movie," I say as we leave the building.

"This was the only thing I had planned ahead, for today. After I told you not to watch the movie without me, I figured it would be nice if you could watch it at the movie theatre. So, I figured why not make it a date? And after all the shit that's been going on, I thought we both needed at least just a one day break from it all. So I called up yesterday and made a few offers and arrangements, and said 'Oh, by the way, we might not be coming at all. Don't worry I'll still give you money. But if we do turn up, it'll be any time between 7:30 and 8:30.'"

"Teddy," I sigh. "You paid a lot of money for this. Watching it on blue-ray at home would suffice."

"I wanted it to be special," he says.

I understand what he means. There's something rather special and grand about going to the movies, even if it's just the local.

"Well," I say. "It was. Thank you, Teddy."

As soon as we're seated in the car, I let out a yawn and rest my head on Teddy's shoulder. It's 11:15pm now.

"Tired?" he asks.

"Very," I murmur.

"I'm sorry. It's my fault. I shouldn't have kept you out late. And I certainly shouldn't have taken you to the market where we were on our feet the whole time. Especially, when you're used to taking naps throughout the day. And also when you have a bad leg."

"My leg is fine now. It doesn't even hurt anymore."

"I bet it does hurt. You just have a very high tolerance to pain. You always have. I still can't believe you managed to convince the nurses at the hospital that you didn't need the crutches they were trying to give you. But anyway, I still should have taken you somewhere less physically exerting."

"No," I say. "Today was… perfect. I'm glad we went to the market. And the aquarium. And the cinema. And everything..." My words get muffled in a yawn, towards the end.

I turn as much as I can in my seat, and scoot closer to him, so I'm right up against his side. I let my eyes shut.

I didn't intend to fall sleep, but next thing I know I'm woken up when the car engine is shut off.

As my consciousness slowly comes back to me, I realise that I have one leg awkwardly hooked around one of his, and one arm across his torso. Like some sort of strange embrace.

"Morning," I mutter, just for the sake of being silly.

"Good morning," he says, I can hear him smiling.

I pull myself away from him, and gently rub sleep from my eyes. I unbuckle my seat belt, and climb out of the car. I stumble but Cooper catches my arm before I fall on my face.

"Thank you," I mutter to him.

Teddy puts an arm around my waist and supports me as we walk up the stairs. I feel a more awake by the time we get inside.

"Ciao Papa," I say. He's lounging in the recliner, reading a book.

"Ciao," he smiles.

"Where's Annie?" I ask, looking around. She's not here. She must be upstairs. I don't wait for an answer I head upstairs straight away.

I find her in my parent's bedroom. Sound asleep in Gail's arms as she quietly hums a simple tune.

"We fed her about an hour ago, she just fell asleep," Gail murmurs quietly.

"Thank you," I whisper.

I look down at the little cherub as she sleeps. Her long lashes are resting against her round cheeks – she must get them from Teddy because my lashes are thick but short. Her mouth is open just a little, making an 'o' shape. I listen to her quiet breathes, for a while. And again I find that she's so beautiful I feel like crying.

I watch her until, Teddy appears at the door.

"I better go," he whispers.

I nod.

Gail stands and gives Anouk to Teddy. As soon as she's in his arms, he lowers his head to hers, breathes in her scent from her blonde hair and gives a kiss to her forehead.

I follow Teddy downstairs and help him put her in her carrier seat, and gather all her stuff.

He says goodnight to my parents before he heads out the door. I follow him out into the night. He quickly secures Anouk's seat in the car, before turning to me.

"You," he says, "get a good night's sleep."

"Yes, sir," I smile.

"See you tomorrow?"

"Yes"

"Okay, well, goodnight then"

"Teddy," I say, before he can get into the car. "Thank you, for today, l mean. I had fun."

"It was my pleasure, Miss Taylor," he smirks.

_He called us Miss Taylor, and not Mrs Grey. Both of our inconstancies are getting rather confusing._

I assume it's for my benefit, at this late hour, he probably doesn't want to trigger any stress.

_That's really sweet and thoughtful - can we kiss him now?_

I lean forward and slide my arms around his chest. Hugging him like this I see I only come up to around about where his collar bone should be under his shirt. I lift myself up onto my tippy toes and turn my head so that I am able to place a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth. I hold on to him a little longer than I probably should.

I let out a sigh, when I finally pull away.

"It's been a long day," he says. "Go straight to bed".

"Yes, sir," I say giving him a salute.

"Good girl. See you tomorrow?"

"Yes. Goodnight Theodore."

"Goodnight, Sophie."

I stay outside a little while after the car drives off into the night. I just stand there, grinning, and feeling strangely giddy. Like fizzy bubbles inside my stomach that make me happy. When I do head back inside, I lean against the shut door, to gather myself. But I'm still grinning like a buffoon.

"How do you feel?" Papa asked from the sofa.

I almost jump out of my skin, because I forgot he was there.

Shit, that's embarrassing!

"Good," I say.

"No headaches? Pain?"

"No, I'm fine… Buonanotte, Papa".

I give him a kiss on the cheek as I hurry past.

"Sophie," he calls.

I stop just before I reach the stairs, and turn to face him.

For a moment, we just look at each other. Two matching faces. Everyone always says I'm the smaller, girl-version of my father. Which is true if you look at just the surface of it – my looks are his looks, and traits are his traits. But my father is a good man – I don't know who I am.

_He's been through things too, _my Subconscious reminds me.

We never talked about those things – his time in the military. I always accepted that it was a touchy subject, and left it alone. We've never been much for talking, anyway. But I realise that since the hospital, we haven't spoken about much. I mean shouldn't the crash be something we talk about? I mean my dad has been acting like he's my head of security, rather than my father. But, as we are so a like, I can imagine that perhaps he does want to talk to me, but he doesn't know what to say, or would feel uncomfortable saying it.

"You look better," he says.

Better. Better is always good.

Instead of saying anything. I head over and drop down beside him. We both just sit there for a while, until I twist myself around, drop my head on his shoulder, and take his hand. He turns his head, so mine is sort of tucked under his chin, and he gently strokes what's left of my hair. For the second time today, I find myself in a weird sort of hug. Clearly I'm not an expert at this embracing thing.

"Ti amo, Papa," I mutter sleepily.

"Ti amo," he says.

* * *

I dream of a pair of dark eyes staring at me. Blue, I think, but so dark they almost look black. There's pale skin around them. And greasy red hair nearby. It's a man. I don't know him. And he doesn't know me. But I can see in his fathomless blue eyes, that he hates me. He is fill with pure anger when he sees me.

I think that I hate him just as much.

And that scares me.

I wake with a jolt. I'm in my own bed. My t-shirt is sticking to my skin with sweat, my heart is racing and my breaths are coming in short pants.

I sit up and place my head in my shaking hands. I wait till my breathing calms and nausea subsides. I'm so tired. It's dark still. But I don't want to go back to sleep if Jack Hyde is going to terrorize my dreams.

I thought I was on the sofa. Papa must have moved me here.

Something isn't right.

I just know.

I reach out and fumble for my phone on the nightstand. It's not there. But I find the lamp switch.

In the dim lighting, I see my purse on my desk chair.

I fall out of bed – quite literally. And half crawl-half walk across the room.

I finally find my phone inside my purse.

I easily find Teddy's number on the contacts list. I remember how it took Teddy's some time to explain to me how to use today's technology – phone's haven't changed much so that's pretty easy to use.

After a few rings.

"What's wrong?" we both say at the same time.

I can here Anouk's wailing in the background.

"What's wrong with her?" I ask.

"I don't know - "

"Is she sick?"

"No - "

"Her diaper? Is she hungry?"

"No, I already - "

"What's wrong with her, Teddy?!"

"Sophie, calm down. And stop shouting."

I hadn't even noticed that I was. Damn it, I hope I didn't wake my parents.

"Sorry," I mutter.

"She's just having trouble sleeping. I think she's misses you."

"Oh," I breathe. "Well, I'm coming over."

"Sophie, it's 3:00am!"

"I'm coming now."

"Don't you dare!"

There's something in his demanding tone that makes me stop. I almost let out a helpless whine, like I've just been spanked or something.

"It's 3.00am. You have no one who will drive you, unless you wake up your father. But you won't do that. And you are not allowed to drive yourself, and even if you were, you need security with you. Which you don't have, unless you wake your father. Which, again, you won't do. Stay where you are."

"Okay," I murmur, pouting to myself and looking down at my socks.

_Jeez! He's not even in the room!_

I'm almost surprised at how commanding his is. Then I realise that he always was, even as a _toddler_.

Anouk is still crying in the background, and I can hear Teddy trying to calm her.

Then, I can see them in front of me, standing at the foot of the bed. Teddy clutching the crying baby to his chest. She looks so tiny, as he rocks her gently in his muscular arms. The room is dimly lit by just one lamp somewhere in the room. It may be cold outside, but it's warm in here. Anouk won't stop crying. Teddy looks over to me, but doesn't say anything. I climb out of bed. I barely feel the carpet under my feet, as I head over. I take the baby and have a go at calming her. But nothing. She just continues to cry. I sit on the edge of the bed. Teddy sits beside me gently stroking her hair. And I start singing to her. Then only song I can think of at 2am in the morning. And as I sing her wailing turns to softer cries. Then I realise I'm not singing alone. Teddy is singing too. The song is a duet after all. And eventually she stops crying. Shuts her big round eyes. And falls asleep.

"Sophie?" Teddy calls through the phone.

I realise that I'm standing in the middle of my old bedroom, on the phone to Teddy, alone. What was that? A dream? A memory?

Anouk was smaller in the vision. It must have been a memory.

"Sing with me?" I ask.

There's a pause on the other end of the line.

"Okay," he says.

I suspect that he's put me on speaker phone, when I begin to hear Anouk's screaming more clearly.

"Shh," Teddy says. Just before I start to sing.

It is a poor chose of song - I don't understand why I chose it this time when I've already established this. But I sing anyway, and I know the lyrics – they come easily to me, like I've listened to the song a thousand times over. Even though I only heard them once in the cinema today. And Teddy sings his part too. And just as expected Anouk is quiet by the end of the song.

Teddy's takes me off speaker phone.

"She's asleep," he whispers.

"Good."

"You should sleep too."

"Why that song, Teddy?" I blurt out.

It's a minute before he answers.

"I don't know," he admits. "But perhaps, it was because it's a song that someone should have sang to you."

That's a very interesting idea. Flynn might be able to make something of that.

"Good night, Sophie," Teddy says.

"Good night, Teddy."

I hang up. And for a moment I just stand still, holding my phone.

After a few minutes I realise that I'm still in my jeans. So I slide them off my legs. I change my bra to a night time maternity breastfeeding bra thingy, just because I usually end up leaking milk on to the bed. But much like pumping milk, I just do it without thinking too much.

When I get back into bed, I struggle to fall back asleep, at first.

What Teddy said about the song, turns over in my head. And I think he has a point. I must remember to talk to Flynn about it.

The lyrics come easily as the minutes tick by, and my eyes lids begin to drop.

_Mother cannot guide you_

_Now you're on your own_

_Only me beside you_

_Still you're not alone._

_No one is alone. Truly._

_No one is alone._

_Mother isn't here now_

_Wrong things. Right things._

_Who knows what she'd say?_

_Who can say what's true?_

_Nothing quite so clear now_

_Do things, fight things._

_Feel you've lost your way._

_You decide, but you are not alone._

_Believe me, no one is alone._

_No one is alone, believe me._

_Truly._

_People make mistakes._

_Fathers. Mothers._

_People make mistakes_

_Holding to their own_

_Thinking they're alone._

_Honour their mistakes_

_Fight for their mistakes_

_Everybody makes_

_One another's terrible mistakes_

_Witches can be right_

_Giants can be good_

_You decide what's right_

_You decide what's good_

_Just remember_

_Someone is on your side –_

_Our side._

_Someone else is not._

_While we're seeing our side_

_Maybe we forgot_

_They are not alone_

_No one is alone._

_Someone is on your side._

_No one is alone._


	16. Shirtsleeves

**Sophie**

The dark eyes are back. I see the pale skin and red hair again. We stare at each other. So much hatred again. And that's all there is. It's almost crippling. I wonder if he can see my soul just as much as I can see his.

I shudder awake, breathing heavy, chest heaving. It was the exact same dream as before. I've never felt so much indignation before. Not like that - not so real and so... permanent. It is so intense that I think maybe we will always feel like that and nothing else. It felt like we hate each other, and we hate ourselves

_Hate_d. _Jack Hyde is gone. Emotions are never permanent. They can always change._

There's a light knock on my door then.

"Come in," I mutter.

Gail's face appears as the door opens.

"Are you up, Sophie?"

"I'm asleep," I bury my face into the pillow.

"We have to get ready for today, sweetheart."

"I don't want to go."

"I know you don't," she sighs. "But you must have your CT scan. It's important. Too important to miss."

"It's just the thought of being in a hospital after..."

"I understand. You hated going to hospitals, it reminds you of the Good Samaritan Centre. There's nothing to be afraid of. I'll be with you the whole time."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"I'll make you some breakfast," she smiles before leaving the room.

Just as I sit up my phone makes a 'ping' sound on the night stand, where I left it last night.

I pick it up and fiddle with it until I remember how to view emails.

###

**From**: Theodore Grey

**Subject**: Good morning

**Date**: May 8, 2035 08:36

**To**: Sophie Taylor-Grey

Hello,

I hope you had a decent night's sleep after our performance last night. I just wanted to double check that you didn't need me to come with you to the hospital this morning. I don't mind coming along if you want me to.

But if not, maybe I'll see you later?

Theodore Grey

###

I quickly type out a reply.

###

**From**: Sophie Taylor-Grey

**Subject**: Maybe

**Date**: May 8, 2035 08:40

**To**: Theodore Grey

Good morning Teddy,

I hope you are well rested too. Thanks for offering, but I'll be okay with Gail and Cooper. I know Gail has other things to do later today and I don't want to get in her way, so perhaps I can come by the apartment and spend the afternoon there?

Sophie Taylor-Grey

Chief Financial Officer, Grey Enterprise Holding Inc.

###

**From**: Theodore Grey

**Subject**: Open

**Date**: May 8, 2035 08:45

**To**: Sophie Taylor-Grey

Very well, sounds good to me. But please, please contact me if you need me - and I'll come running.

Until then, I patiently await your company, Miss Taylor.

Theodore Grey

###

I can't believe how I feel after just a good morning message; it's already lifted my mood. And Gail was right it will only be a couple hours. How horrible can it be?

* * *

_This is horrible. This is really horrible._

"Your CT scan looks good," Dr Singh, the neurologist tells me.

"Oh great," I huff.

Could this appointment be any longer?

"So you mentioned that you've had some of your memory come back."

"Yeah, just a bit."

I tell her about what I remember – Jack Hyde, the Vegas bar, Annie's song, and the memory I had just last night of Teddy and Annie.

"You seem to be remembering things that stand out the most - Hyde and your family. If you want to know more why this is I'm sure you'd me more comfortable talking to your therapist he will know all about it.

"I think I understand," I nod.

Those two things - Jack and Teddy and Annie - they're like two mountain peaks underneath a blanket - they would stand out among other experiences, even if I remembered them all.

"Should she have remembered more by now? It's been a month since she woke up," Gail asks.

_Dammit Gail, why did you have to ask? Now we'll be here longer._

"No, nor should she have remembered less. Everyone is different. Some people get all their memory back in days. Some people never get any of it at all. There's no guide to go by - all brain injuries are different."

I nod.

"Okay - can we go now?" I ask.

"Sophie!" Gail scolds, from the seat by Dr Singh's desk.

I sigh heavily.

"That's quite alright, Mrs Taylor," Dr Singh says. "I just need to book you in for another appointment in a few weeks' time, so we can review your progress. Then you're free to go."

"You could have at least tried to hide your impatience," Gail tells me later, when I hurry to get out of this place.

I don't like one bit of it - the walls, the small halls, the lighting, and the coldness. I hate all of it.

"I'm sorry," I huff. "I just hate it here."

"I know. I know."

Cooper escorts us to Gail's car in the lot - they are going to drop me off at Tower 801. Then Gail has to go to meet my dad to do some grocery shopping for Ana and Mr Grey.

"You look better, after yesterday," she says as we set off.

"Papa said that as well."

"You look younger than your age again. You don't look so tired, and stressed, and sad... I'm just saying."

She doesn't need to say what she really means - the small smirk says everything.

_Doesn't look like much has changed with Gail, she's still just as interested in our love life as she used to be._

I guess there would be more to talk in that area nowadays.

We sit in silence for a little while. I bury my chin into Teddy's scarf that I'm wearing.

"Pen said…" I start, but wonder if I should go on.

"Pen said what?"

"She said that I was _happy _with Teddy. What did she mean exactly? That it's not a bad relationship so it didn't make me miserable, so I am happy? Or I was sad and he made me happy? Or I was happy and he makes me happier?"

"I think she meant that he makes you happy on the inside. Everyone has levels of happiness, like layers - some people have more layers than others. Some people are happy deep inside and sad on the outer layers."

"Why would somebody be sad on the outside, if they were happy on the inside?"

"Maybe someone is poor and struggling and doesn't have lots of nice things, so they're sad about that. But when they think about it they've got friends and family and health, and that might matter more to them, so they're happy about that. I think what Penelope meant was that you might have been either happy or sad on the outside, but Teddy made you happy on the inside."

"Oh," I say. "Was I happy or sad on the outside?"

"Happy. That's how you seemed. But deep down I think you might have been a little bit sad".

_I think she's right. She suggested the outer layer are usually about what you value less. So for us: material things. We have lots of stuff. So I guess we were happy with that. Underneath that is maybe our job –which is extremely successful, so we're still happy there. Then there's family and friends– still got Papa and Gail. Not so many friends, but a few is all we need. But what about mom? So maybe a little less happy. Then what about romantic love? A partner? A companion? A little family of our own? We didn't have that until Teddy. Teddy came along and made us happy – that's what Penelope meant._

That would make sense, if I actually wanted that stuff – love, marriage, babies, forever and always.

_Didn't you?_

No, of course not. That's the whole point… Haven't you been listening to anything that's happened since I was 13?!

_And before you were 13? You wanted it. When you were 10 you had a diary and you used to cut out pictures of houses and wedding dresses from magazines and stick them –_

Okay, let's not go into that – it's embarrassing to even think about. Besides, I think I threw that diary away. I didn't want it after the whole thing with Edward and mom and all of mom's other boyfriends and Jeff.

_But there are different levels of want - there's passing fancy all the way to deep-seated desires. If you obtain a passing fancy you'll just end up wanting something else, then something else after that. But true desires never really go away until you get them. You became a slightly different person when you were 13, maybe that's why your desires changed too. But it depends on who you are – who you truly are – and who you pretend to be._

I'm not pretending to be anyone – I've just _changed._

_If that's true, why are you married now then?_

This is too confusing. And repeating the word layers just reminds me of when Shrek tells Donkey that ogres have layers. Maybe I'm an ogre. Oh my god, I'm Shrek, that's who I am.

_Oh no. Oh here we go with the water works…_

I drop my head into my hands and sob – rather loudly – suddenly feeling like everything is tipping sideways and I'm on that emotional rollercoaster again.

"Sophie?" Gail says.

_And today started off so well._

"Sophie, what's wrong, sweetheart?" Gail asks, she sounds so worried.

I didn't mean to worry her. She pulls me around to give me a hug.

"Honey, tell me what's wrong. If you don't tell me what's wrong I can't help you."

I can't even get the words out, I just continue to cry and cry.

_Get a grip, will you?_

Why do you have to be so mean all the time?

_Are you serious right now?_

"Do you want me to call you father? Or we can go home right now to see him. I'm sure Teddy would understand if you don't see him for one day."

I abruptly stop sobbing.

"That's what I thought," Gail says. "Now tell me, what's wrong."

"I'm Shrek!" I start sobbing again.

"It's okay Cooper," I hear Gail mutter. I imagine he must have been giving concerned glances in the rear view mirror.

"Sophie, you're not Shrek. What are you talking about?"

"Ogres have layers," I cry.

She pats my back.

"Everyone has layers. Not everyone is an ogre."

"Why is everything so complicated?"

"There, there. It's complicated, because you're a contemplated person. There are so many sides to you. And that's okay because you've been through a lot, and I'm sure that when you figure yourself out, you won't seem so complicated. Because even though you have so many facets, some things that are constant with you, being committed is one of them… I'm just saying."

But I have commitment issues! See what I mean by complicated?!

_I think she means with work and projects. Or with issues with family and friends. You're not committed to relationships because you don't _want _to be. With everything else we're pretty headstrong… or stubborn, whichever way you want to look at it._

I realise we've stopped moving. We're in the underground car park at Tower 801. Gail pulls out a Kleenex from her purse, and gives it to me.

"Thank you," I wipe my face and blow my nose.

"Come on, let's go upstairs."

"Okay," I sigh.

Cooper opens my door for me, and escorts us all the way to the apartment.

"What's wrong?" Teddy demands the moment he sees the evidence of my crying on my face.

"She thinks she's Shrek," Gail explains.

Teddy squeezes me in his arms for a moment.

I can't be bothered to argue anymore; I'll just be Shrek, quietly.

I feel him kiss the top of my head.

"Would you like something to eat, Gail?" Teddy asks

"No, I best be off," she sighs. I can tell she doesn't really want to leave me here upset, but she knows I'll be just fine with Teddy.

"Someone will pick you up at six – probably your father and I," she says, giving me a hug goodbye.

"Urm… thanks for earlier," I say.

Is that what normal people say?

_I don't know. But it's sounds alright._

Okay, good.

"Oh honey," she says, tucking a stray ribbon of hair behind my ear. "That's what I'm here for." I can feel the maternal love practically radiating off her, as she smiles before leaving out the door.

"You want to talk about it?" Teddy asks.

"Later maybe." I say, before I head into the bedroom, to find Anouk peacefully lying in her crib, gazing up at her hanging mobile – multi-coloured fish spinning around in slow lazy circles. Her wide powder blue eyes follow their movements. I watch her for a moment before quietly leaving the room – careful not to disturb her. I could watch her all day, but go to find Teddy again.

He's in the living room, putting two plates of Spanish omelette on the coffee table beside the sofa.

"How was the scan? Everything alright?"

"Yeah. Everything's fine."

"Good. You want to talk about what you were crying about?"

"I'm okay now," I whisper, popping down beside him and taking my plate.

"Please tell me," he says.

"Later," I sigh.

"No. Now," he demands.

He pulls me down on the sofa beside him, his blue eyes gaze into mine, and no matter how stubborn I thought I was, I cannot deny him now. But I cannot look at him – I know I'll start crying again if I do. I find a spot on the mural behind us, and looking passed his shoulder like this, I tell him about the layers and Shrek thing.

"Baby," he says once I'm done explaining. "You're not Shrek."

He called me baby again.

_I think it's a regular thing._

"Remember when you said you never wanted to get married, and I told you that you never expressed that with me, you just said yes to my proposal straight away? Well, _you _didn't express it but other people did tell me. Pen, Phebs, your father, even _my dad. _But Gail also talked to me, she said that, knowing you, on the inside you would always want love, and maybe get married, even have children one day - you did when you were younger. The only difference is that you decided that it was a bad idea for you. That it wasn't _for you. _You still believed it could work _for other people _– you have _seen _it work. And I think, that in your belief, some part if you was still hopeful that you could be included too."

_He seems to have a point._

Did I not spit out advice as soon as Phoebe had asked me for it? Of course I believed in it, how could I not? Did I not have hopes for others? Teddy, Phoebe, Ava, Seth and all the rest of them? It was only _for me _to not have it. I spent a lot of my childhood and teen years watching my mother, as she fell in and out of love so rapidly. I watched as she gave her heart away so easily, and became less and less of herself each time.

That's one of the things about my mother, she falls in love so quickly, and so wholly. It's one of her flaws. And one of her flaws that I saw in myself.

So I shut it down. I made sure that I would never give myself like that, I wouldn't let myself fall in love so easily. To the point when I vowed to never fall in love at all. Because I knew love makes us fragile.

Teddy was right perhaps it wasn't that I didn't _want _it. It's that I was afraid. Afraid of getting hurt. Afraid of becoming my mother.

_But you're not your mother._

"You're right," I mutter.

_I usually am._

I look up at Teddy and for the first time today I notice the dark circles under his eyes.

"You don't look like you slept much. Did Annie wake up crying again?"

"Only for a feed. But actually I was up writing till about 3-ish," he smiles sheepishly.

"Teddy!" I scold.

"It's not my fault; I was inspired. It happens often. I don't know why. Sometimes it just flows better at night."

"Oh," I sigh. "Was it something you were already working on, or something new?"

"It's something new."

"What is it about?"

"I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

"Because… I don't know, I just can't," he says.

I watch as a lovely pink colour spreads across his cheeks. I always thought that blushing would look strange on a grown man - I've been proven wrong; Teddy is no less attractive when he blushes. It's one of those rare moments when he's shy or nervous - if anything it makes him more attractive.

"Okay, okay," I smile. "Just tell me one thing: It's not an erotica is it?"

"What?! No."

I laugh. I can't imagine Teddy writing erotica – he usually writes dramatic short stories about seemingly ordinary people with some complicated issue. Raising the ordinary to extraordinary.

_Although, I'm sure if he ever did write erotica it would be hella sexy._

"So I'm not allowed to read it?"

"Not until it's finished, and perfected. This one is special, I think. I just feel very secretive and protective about it."

"Okay. I'll leave it alone until I'm allowed." I smile up at him.

"Thank you," he leans down and kisses the end of my nose. "You're being cute."

"Hey! What did I tell you about calling me cute?!"

He just laughs and stands up.

"Stay here. I'll get us some drinks."

He goes back into the kitchen, leaving me on the sofa with a tingling sensation on my nose.

I sigh heavily and kick off my shoes, and sit back into the cushions. I can see that the blown glass bowl sits in the middle of the coffee table currently filled with oranges. But's it's what's beside it that catches my eyes.

A newspaper folded over, opened on a particular page. What catches my eyes is the picture of Teddy and me from yesterday, in Pike Place Market. Annie strapped to Teddy's chest – luckily she's pretty much hidden from the camera, can't see her little face at all – my hand is in his.

I've been pretty much warded off of looking through the media since I woke up. But curiosity gets the better of me this time.

_**FIFTY FIRST DATES?**_

_**Last month the nation was shocked to hear that the financial genius, Sophie Taylor, was involved in a car accident and was admitted to hospital. We were informed by an inside source that Taylor sustained head injuries resulting in amnesia. It appeared that not only had Taylor lost her memory of her relationship to Theodore Grey (Seattle's most eligible bachelor, until their marriage in August of last year) but also the birth of their daughter, Ann.**_

_**However, things are looking up for the young family as they were spotted enjoying a day out at Pike Place Market, in downtown Seattle. This is the first time the family have been seen out alone, with the exception of being surrounded by bodyguards. With such tight security it's been almost impossible to receive any further information about the couple's relationship. However, a civilian has told us that Taylor and Grey were looking rather cosy together, holding hands, embracing and even kissing.**_

_**Furthermore, Taylor seems to have developed a new found confidence as she dons a undercut hairstyle, popular the early 2010s, no longer hiding the vicious wound on the left side of her face, but now flaunting it. Could Taylor be bringing the trend back? Who knows?**_

* * *

_What the hell is this bullshit?!_

How did it get from all sombre to 'Woah! Hairstyle!'? Jeez.

_Also, the mistakes!_

Please tell me they genuinely think that Anouk's name is Ann, and that they didn't try to give her a nickname. Also, _kissing_? We weren't kissing! '_The nation was shocked'_? Oh really, the entire nation? Okay, whatever you say. And _'financial genuis'_?

_I could probably live with that one._

And how the hell did they know about that I remember and what I don't. Who is this '_inside source'_?!

_At least they still think that the crash was an accident._

I'm sure they'll find out somehow, very soon, and they'll be all over it.

I grip the paper hard, it scrunches up in my hands and tears a little.

A growl of frustration escapes through my teeth, and without thinking I throw the ball of paper across the room.

Teddy, coming out of the kitchen holding cups of orange juice, narrowly dodges the flying ball of paper.

"Woah," he mutters, just as I let out a gasp, and cover half my face with my hands. I almost hurt him.

My hands are shaking so hard. Every muscle is tensed, my heart is now racing and my breathing is coming short. I barely register that Teddy has rushed over to put the cups down on the table. I'm so unbelievably angry.

_Why so angry over something so little?_

I don't know. I just am.

He pulls my hands away from my face, but they go straight to his. My fingertips gently running over his jaw, across the stubble on his face, his cheekbones, along the angles of his nose, across the softer skin by his eyes, straightening out the small creases between his eyebrows. He pulls me against him, and starts muttering that everything is okay, he repeats it over and over again, and each time he places a small kiss somewhere on my face, yet keeping clear of my mouth.

"I'm sorry," I sigh, feeling the anger float away.

_That was scary._

Terrifying – that I could get so angry or something so small.

"I'm sorry I threw it at you."

"Come on, it was an accident. It didn't even hit me. Even if it did it was just a paper. It wouldn't have hurt. You didn't mean to hit me. If anything it's the journalist's fault. It was a crappy article, anyway. My aunt Kate can do way better than that – she's probably the only journalist I trust, and I'm probably biased."

He laughs. I know he's trying to cheer me up.

"Maybe it's the fault of this unnamed civilian, who I bet was just the photographer making up stories. Or perhaps the fault of the inside source at the hospital, but he was already dealt with when he spoke to the papers a couple weeks ago. Half of that article is just relaying old news."

"Which inside source?"

"It was a doctor at the hospital you were at. It's okay, he's been dealt with."

That fucking bitch!

"Dealt with?"

"He breached patient-doctor confidentiality, even if he wasn't _your _doctor. Anyway, your father and I dealt with it."

Holy shit! This happened and I didn't even know about it.

"Or maybe it's my fault, I was supposed to get rid of that before you arrived. I forgot. Or maybe it's Coopers fault because he's the one who bought the paper. But then again, I asked him to. Yes, it's all my fault, I might as well have thrown the paper at myself."

"Okay, enough, this is too much for my head," I laugh. "It was my fault. But I didn't mean it."

"There you go," he smiles.

I smile back, and we tuck into our food.

I manage to clean my plate thoroughly, because one I was really hungry, and two because the man can seriously cook. Teddy takes are plates and washes them once we're finished. And I start preparing a bottle of formula for Annie because it's time for her meal. And just in time she starts whining for food. I go and get her from her cot, she gives me a wide toothless smile as I cradle her in my arms.

"Ababa ooh da ha," she says.

"Yes, yes, I know, isn't it just fascinating?"

"Abababa."

I retrieve her bottle from Teddy, who already tested it out on his wrist to make sure it's not too hot.

"Tea?" he asks.

"Please," I murmur, as I walk into the living room and perch on the sofa. I shift her weight into one arm.

I try to bring the silicone teat to her mouth but she reaches up and pushes it away with her tiny little hand.

"Awah," she says. "Ababa."

"Come on, _Passerotto_," I coo.

I try to brush it against her cheek which usually coaxes her into drinking, but she just tried to whack it away again. Her big blue eyes go impossibly wider and water somewhat.

"Come on," I sigh. "Yum yum."

Her arm pushes it away again, but her head turns towards my clothed breast.

_Oh god._

She's never done this before.

_Well, she's doing it now…_

In a panic I move her away from my chest swiftly.

And she screams bloody murder.

_Oh crap._

I hear a something smash in the kitchen.

_Double crap._

"Shh. Shh. Shh." I rock her in my arms awkwardly.

_You have no idea what you're doing, do you?_

"Come on, Annie," I sigh. "Hush now. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

She wails on.

"What's wrong?!" Teddy huffs. I hadn't even realised he had run into the room. He's gripping one hand in his other.

"Nothing we're fine here," I say.

_We are obviously not fine here._

I can do this by myself. I _have _to be able to do this by myself.

"You hurt your hand?"

"Only a little," he says. "I dropped a tea cup."

"Let me see."

"No. It's okay."

"Teddy, it might be bad."

"It's just a scratch."

"That is what Mercutio said, and he died!" I snap.

_Dude, calm down._

Shut up!

"Sophie, calm down. I'm not going to die," he rolls his eyes.

"Don't roll your eyes at me, Theodore Raymond Grey."

I try giving her the bottle again. She's still not having any of it.

"Let me see the cut, Teddy." I insist.

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Theodore!"

_Can we please just concentrate on one thing at a thing!?_

"It's just a scratch, baby."

I just give him a disapproving look.

"She can sense your stress. Relax. And so will she…. I'll be back in a minute. I need to sort this out."

He disappears around the corner. I huff and redirect my attention to Anouk, whose cries are getting louder again. I try to give her the bottle again. But there's no interest at all. I have a feeling she's no longer crying for milk. But I don't know what she's crying at now. I put the bottle down on the table. And hold her against my chest, as I begin pacing.

"It's okay, Annie."

But she won't stop crying. And I'm getting nervous now.

I don't know what she wants.

_She wants milk._

I tried giving it to her.

_No. She wants milk from you._

I haven't got any pumped milk. We ran out.

_Could you be any slower right now? She wants to be breastfed._

As if to highlight the point she turns her head towards my chest again.

I try to move her away again but more subtly this time, so her head is against my shoulder instead. Her wails are closer to my ears and starting to give me a headache.

"Come on, Annie," I utter, I can hear my voice cracking. "Please doesn't do this to me."

_She just a baby. She wants what she wants. It's not her fault._

I know.

_Oh god. You're not going to start crying again are you?_

I just can't help it.

Tears start streaming down my face as I try to comfort the poor baby in my arms.

_You're making her worse!_

And you're making me worse!

_Why are we crying so much all of a sudden? We never cry!_

Penelope set me off. Now I'm an emotional roller coaster... apparently it's a water ride.

_Well we were fine yesterday._

Teddy was there yesterday.

He's here now, you idiot!

I can do this by myself.

_Oh? Because you're doing such a great job?_

I know! I'm terrible. I'm a terrible person! This is why I didn't want to have kids. Because I'd be a terrible mother.

_Okay, we could be worse, so let's just calm down there._

She'd probably be better if I just put her down.

_Don't you dare! Teddy's coming back soon._

Oh god, he's probably going to think I'm so pathetic. Second break down of the day. I've doubled my personal best.

For about half a second I contemplate hiding from him. But quickly realise it's a ridiculous idea.

_He can help. You can do this together. Why do you insist on doing this alone? You don't need to be alone!_

I do everything alone.

_You're being selfish! This is a baby we're talking about! A whole other human being. She's not just some maths problem you can figure out. You don't know what you're doing, and she needs you to know what you're doing!_

You're right.

I know I am.

I turn around to face Teddy, who has just come back from the bathroom. He doesn't even say anything. He just strides over to us. All I want to do is put Annie in her father's arms. But he doesn't make a move to take her.

"Please, Teddy," I sigh.

He places both hands on my waist. It's a comforting gesture, nothing more, nothing less. He drops his head low, and gently, ever so quietly shushes the both of us. I stop crying _immediately, _I'm left with mere hiccups. Even Anouk calms down somewhat. He didn't even touch her.

He's a magician.

_He's amazing._

He towers over the both of us - leaning over us, like a canopy - a shelter.

Eventually we sway back over to the sofa and we both - him more than me - patiently wait for Annie to stop howling, stop pulling on my t-shirt, to take the bottle. And eventually drink her formula.

The key seemed to be to be patient and keep calm. And the only thing keeping me calm was Teddy's comforting hand on my back.

"There," he breathed, as soon as Anouk drinks the last drop. It's the first thing he's said in a while. He drops a towel over his shoulder and finally takes her from me.

He looks at me and I kind of just stare at him. He doesn't need to say anymore.

Everyone has been right - I am not in this by myself.

Not if I don't want to be.

* * *

"No one expects you to feel completely comfortable with Annie," Teddy says. I watch as he dunks his tea bag in his cup and pulls it out almost immediately - black and weak. I prefer mine strong and loaded with milk and sugar.

"I can't begin to imagine what it must be like for you," he continues. "It's almost like going to sleep one night, and then waking up in the morning to find that everything has changed. You can't just turn into someone's mother overnight."

"I know," I mutter. "I just feel like I have to... for her."

"I understand. Especially because she's so young. If she was older, she might be more understanding of why that you wouldn't be able to be there all the time. Babies don't understand too much, they just feel. But you shouldn't feel pressured to fill the role. You don't have to rush into it. We have time. You'll get there eventually, these things take time."

"But I want to be able to be... I don't know. I want her with me all the time. But I don't know how to... take care of her. I don't understand what she needs."

"It's harder I guess, this time around. During the pregnancy, we had prepared so much, I think we read every baby book we could find. And they all say different things. But at least we built up from nothing, and _then _had the baby. I imagine for you it must be all backwards now."

"Yeah. Maybe I should read one of those baby books."

We sit and drink our tea in silence for a minute or two.

"Anything else you want to say on the matter?" he asks after a while.

"You sound like Flynn."

"Sorry," he laughs. "I'm not used to this. Usually it's me who does the talking, and you do the listening."

"By 'talking' you mean 'spilling of secrets'"

"Yeah, I guess," he gives a nervous laugh.

"Well we both have something to work on," I smile.

"But, really," he says. "You can talk to me."

"I know. It's just that the other reason why I'm pushing this thing is entirely selfish."

"How?"

"It's sort of a way to take my mind of things. Like the way I used not want to face up to problems that were _too _difficult, apparently I used to work my ass off. In the same way, taking care of Annie - of _any child - _is sort of a project to take my mind off things. I can't work. I can't physically exert myself. I can't even _drive_. I hardly remember anything. I have to come to terms with Jack Hyde. And you. And Annie. I have some unknown threat to worry about, which we're not even close to figuring out. I feel so useless, so..."

"Out of control."

"Yes. I guess, I like to be in control."

"You have no idea," he mutters, quietly behind his tea cup. "You look sleepy."

"Yeah, I am a bit. Crying is tiring," I sigh.

"Why don't you take a nap?" he suggests. "You can change into something more comfortable if you want."

"I might do just that," I sigh.

"Go ahead."

_He could come with us... to bed._

"You should come too."

Oh my god, did I really just say that out loud?

"I mean," I hurry to add. "You didn't sleep much last night. Annie is napping, I'm going to take a nap...You should take a nap too. And besides there's more than enough room on the bed."

He opens and closes his mouth, twice.

"I might join you later, I have something to do first... why don't you get changed. I'll clear this up."

"Okay," I sigh, before heading into the bedroom.

I go into the closet looking for some sweatpants or something. I love jeans but they're not the best for sleeping in. I finally see some sleep shorts on a higher shelf, but as I reach up I bash my foot in something on the floor. I look down and see plastic storage boxes tucked away at the bottom.

_This place really is too small._

How come I never noticed these before?

_It just looks like clothes._

His clothes or my clothes?

Curiosity gets the better of me again, I squat down and flip the lid of the first box I see. It really does look like just clothes - a mixture of his, mine and Annie's. But I continue to rummage through them anyway. I pull the lid off the last box, the one I hit my foot on, and sort of just freeze. I just see a lot of lace and a lot of silk. I pinch the first garment between my fingers and pull it out like it's some strange creature. Lingerie. Lots of it. Revealing bras and barely-there panties. I even find corsets. And I think I find what I usually wear for pyjamas: silk slips and teddies... oh, the irony.

"Hey, is my..." Teddy halts in the doorway of the room. Something in his expression tells me I wasn't supposed to find this box, and I'm confirmed as he mutters under his breath: "Shit".

I can barely move; I'm holding up a pair of panties - that I can only describe as blue ribbon - in front of _Teddy._

_He's probably seen you _wear _this... blue ribbon._

Not now, Subconscious, not now.

"Urr..." he says, wide eyed. "You weren't supposed to find that yet."

"It wasn't exactly hidden very well."

"I know, I'm sorry. I just... forgot."

I look back at the box. It looks like everything has just been hastily thrown in. And the other boxes look over packed.

"This isn't where it's usually kept is it?"

"No. It usually goes in your underwear draw... And the ones in your underwear draw now... are mostly new, or hardly ever worn."

"So I usually wear this."

"Yes."

I look back at Teddy, who still looks slightly horrified. I can't help but burst into laughter.

"What's so funny?"

"_I _wear _this_?!"

"Yes."

"This is expensive, sexy lingerie."

"...Yes..."

"Okay, whatever. You should throw it out, it'll make some space."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because it'll never be worn again."

"You'd never wear that?"

"No, don't be absurd."

"Why not?"

"Because I'd look silly."

"On the contrary, you look sexy."

"Sexy? I don't do sexy?"

"So you don't do cute, and you don't do sexy. I have to break it to you, you are very often both. And considering I've actually seen you wearing _that _and you don't remember, I think that means I have a better knowledge of the matter, so my opinion is more relevant."

"And I think you're just trying to get me to like you."

He laughs, and comes over to the box. He looks at it for a second, before pulling out a simple, light grey, satin playsuit. He holds it up, and his eyes meet mine.

"Put it on," he says. "I dare you. If you don't feel sexy in it then you can wear the sleep shorts and I'll throw the whole box away."

"And if I do?"

"Then I win."

_Is he seriously challenging me right now?_

Game on, Grey.

"Fine."

"I'll let you get changed then," he smirks. He goes to pick up the journal I gave him, from the bedside table, then leaves the room.

I huff and start changing, muttering to myself about the idiocy of this.

"I'll just throw it all out myself," I snorted, as the smooth fabric slides over my skin. "Hmm. So it's comfortable. So what?"

I reluctantly take a glance at myself in the mirror.

"So what if I look half decent in it? And so fits well. Really well."

I sigh, and exit the room. In the corridor I peek around the corner into the living room, keeping my body hidden behind the wall.

"I hate it," I say. "Just letting you know. You better find a trash bag."

"Very well then," he smirks. "I'll throw it away."

"Good."

He still smirking when I leave him.

I sigh. It wouldn't hurt to wear it for just a while longer. I refrain from running my hands over the material again.

"So I take a nap in it. So what?" I yawn before shutting my eyes.

* * *

"Hey, hey," I hear, as consciousness seeps into my mind. "It's okay."

"Teddy," his name comes out as mumble inbetween heavy pants.

"It's okay," Teddy sighs, pulling me again his body.

"It keeps coming back. The nightmare. Jack."

"He's gone."

"Not from my head. It's like he's still alive. And here haunting me."

"Look at me," he tilts my head up. "He can't get to you. To any of us."

His thumb strokes over my cheek, before he leans down towards me. My heart leaps into my mouth and I practically flinch away from him, but turning my face away.

"I'm sorry," he gasps. "Habit."

He lets go of me and makes a move to climb out of bed.

"Wait," I grab his t-shirt. "Stay?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

He comes back to me then, and I return the embrace, resting my head on his chest.

"Thanks." I mutter.

"No problem."

I try but I can't seem to relax enough to go back to sleep, even with Teddy gently running a hand along my side.

"Go back to sleep," Teddy whispers.

"I can't."

"I'll keep the bad dreams away, I promise."

"How?"

"Why, I'll fight them with fists, of course."

I laugh at this.

"You look lovely, by the way."

I hum. From where my head rests I can hear his heart beating in his chest.

"Thought you didn't like it."

"It's comfy," I murmur as my eyes close. "Maybe we can keep this one."

"Whatever you say."

* * *

I'm angry. I don't know why. But I am. Something tells me this is different. Different from what? This anger is thin and flimsy, and if disturbed with a feather-light touch it will shatter and turn to dust.

It's warm and humid. But I'm wet - not the good kind. I mean that it's pouring down with summer rain. The sky is grey, the pavement is grey, the buildings are grey, even my soggy work clothes are grey. But right now, the rain doesn't bother me, because I'm too angry to care. I don't know which street I'm on, or where I'm heading. There's nobody else around, I guess because they've ducked inside buildings and shops to escape the downpour. All I know is that I'm stalking away from the person I'm angry at. And the person I'm angry at is stalking after me.

"Sophie!" they call. A familiar, deep and velvety voice. "Sophie, stop!"

I don't stop, I keep marching away. I'm walking surprisingly fast, considering I am trying to not slip on the wet pavement, in my grey, suede stiletto heels.

"Sophie, please!"

Apparently, not fast enough. My wrist is grabbed by the person I'm fleeing.

"What do you want Theodore?!" I shout.

I barely get the words out before I'm yanked around to face one thing that's not grey: A pair of bright blue eyes.

No more words come from either of us, when his mouth comes crashing down on mine. His lips are demanding for mine to yield. His arms become bands of muscle wrapped around my waist - holding me against him as tightly as he can without actually hurting me.

This is not usually how I do things. I do not usually yield to others.

But for him, I do.

I yield to him when I shut my eyes, push my lips back at his. I yield to him when I reach up to run my fingers through his copper hair. When his tongue runs along my bottom lip, and I open my mouth.

And the more I yield, the softer the kiss becomes. It's no longer his arms that hold me to him, but I arch my back so we stay pressed together. His hands stroke up and down my back and hair, while I keep my arms around his neck. I let out a sigh.

It's never like this. Kissing, I mean. But I can't think about what it's usually like. I can't think about anything. I don't even feel the cold of the rain, or the warmth of the air. There's just him. We turn to water, then to air. The feeling of him consumes me completely.

* * *

It's the first natural wake up I've had in what seems like forever. It wasn't the best sleep I've ever had, but there weren't any nightmares. Just pretty dreams.

_Dream or memory?_

Dream probably.

_Are you sure?_

"Good sleep?" Teddy murmurs.

I turn my head up where it rests on his chest.

"Yes," I smile.

"No nightmares?"

"Nope. All rainbows and unicorns."

"Good."

"Did you get any sleep?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

We don't say anything else. We just stay there.

"I think you're parents are picking you up soon," he whispers eventually.

"I don't want them too."

"Me neither."

We stay there only for a while longer.

I want to stay forever.

* * *

**A/N: Hello, I'm sorry it's been so long; I've been rather busy. But, I want you to know that I've not given up on this story or anything. And hopefully, I'll be getting new chapters up soon, and on a regular-ish basis.**

**Also, I'm sorry this chapter is kinda long with little 'movement', but I wanted to display a development in Teddy and Sophie's relationship, as well as her emotional state (sometimes she has great days, sometimes she has really terrible days).**

**Anyways, thanks for sticking by me,**

**Courtney xxx**


	17. Avuncular

**Sophie**

"Are they here yet?" I inquired.

"Cooper is bringing them up right now," Teddy says, looking like he's trying to hide his scowl. "Are you excited about something in particular?"

"I actually feel like we're moving forward and dealing with something."

I really do feel a little less helpless than I did yesterday.

"Are you angry about something in particular?"

"No," Teddy grumbled, which is obviously a lie because he is still scowling.

"Who's the cutest baby in the world?" I hear my dad coo in a sing-song voice, from the kitchen area.

Annie gives him a loud laugh.

"It's you. Yes it is."

"That is so incredibly embarrassing," I mutter.

Cooper walks in then followed by Detective Clarke and young man, both are dressed in dark suits.

"Mr and Mrs Grey," Clarke greets us with a handshake. "Mr Taylor, good to see you. This is deputy inspector Khalil"

"Nice to meet you," I say, as we head over to the sofas. Cooper and my father, with Annie, sit at the dining table, keeping out of the meeting but close enough to hear.

"We have only a few questions for you then we'll be out of your hair," says Khalil.

"Okay," I say. "But you know that I don't remember anything about the crash."

"That's why we wanted to speak to your husband as well, hopefully he can fill in a few blanks. And maybe we can jog something in your memory."

"Earlier this week," starts Clarke, "I informed you that it's quite obvious from the CCTV footage that this was no accident. You - or at least, your vehicle - was specifically targeted. We want to know if you suspect anyone who could have done this... Mr Grey?"

"No," Teddy answers immediately. "Not that I know of anyway."

"And you Mrs Grey?"

"Like I said, I don't remember. It's been 10 years. I'm chief financial officer of a _huge _company. Yes, I probably stepped on a few toes."

"Not enough for anyone to want to kill you," Teddy sighs.

"We don't know that was the intention. They may have only want to _injure _Mrs Grey."

"She almost died!" Teddy spits. "If they just wanted to injure her wouldn't they choose something that was a little less messy?"

"There's really no evidence for us to be certain. We won't be completely sure of the subject's intentions until we catch whoever did this."

"What about what you do remember?" Khalil asks.

"But it's been 10 years. If someone from _before _was trying to kill me, why would they only wait until recently to attack me. Besides, I don't think I had done anything to warrant such a thing, not back then anyway."

"You can ask anyone," Teddy agrees, "back then, she was basically Snow White."

"What changed?" Khalil asks.

"Jack Hyde," Teddy sneered.

"You think this has something to do with that?"

"I thought it was rather obvious. Why else would someone want to hurt Sophie?"

"Do you suspect anyone in particular?"

"How should I know?"

"I thought Jack didn't have any family or friends," I chime in.

"He didn't have any family _with _him," Teddy explains.

I frown.

"He was given up as a child," he explains. "I think his birth mother is somewhere. But she's got to be about 80 years old now. And he might have had friends. Maybe he made some during his time behind bars. Which would explain the time gap."

_He's right. No one is alone, remember?_

"Perhaps," Clarke grunted. "Perhaps it has nothing to do with Jack Hyde. That was what? Seven years ago now?"

"Eight, I think."

"Yes, what if it's about something more recent? How old is your daughter?"

"Almost five months now."

"You don't think someone tried to hurt her?" I implored.

"I don't think so, Sophie," Teddy assures me. "The Aston Martin is a two seater. If they were trying to hurt her they would have known she wouldn't have been in that car... No back seats for the baby carrier."

I nod.

"Mr Grey does make a good point," Clarke agrees.

"But we can't rule it out," I say.

"Unfortunately, no... How long have you two been married?"

I frown. What's that got to do with anything?

"About seven months," I sigh.

"Mrs Grey, in the surveillance footage you drove down 5th Avenue twice before you were hit. Why?"

"I don't know," I say.

_Think harder. _

"I like driving. It was a nice car, I'm sure I enjoyed driving in it. Maybe I was upset about something. I used to drive around when I was younger, sometimes when I was upset or stressed, before coming home. Or sometimes in the middle of the night."

I look at Teddy for input.

"My wife drove into work that day. She was coming home when she was hit."

"She drove into work when she was on maternity leave?"

"She went to collect something. A file, I think."

"What time did she leave the apartment?"

"Around midday."

"So she went into work during maternity leave. And then drove around afterwards."

"Where you upset on that day?" Khalil questions.

I just shrug.

_How the hell am I supposed to know?_

"It almost sounds like wanted to be out of the apartment, Mrs Grey."

I frown.

"Did your wife seem upset or stressed when she left?" Clark asks.

Teddy huffs and I watch as his jaw clenches.

"Yes."

"And why is that, Mr Grey?"

"We had an argument that morning."

I'm taken aback.

"I imagine all married couples argue from time to time," Teddy says.

Oh, of course. For some reason the idea that we argued made our relationship seem a little more real, and a little less like something from a story.

"What where you fighting about?"

"What has this got to do with anything?"

"What where you fighting about?"

Seriously though, what _does _this have to do with anything?

_They think Teddy had something to do with it. _

WHAT?! That's ridiculous.

Clark and Teddy glare at each other for a couple of seconds.

"About... something... I don't remember. I seem to have forgotten as soon as I got a call that my wife had been rushed into hospital."

"And where were you during the time of the accident, Mr Grey?"

Teddy looks pissed. Like really pissed. His fists are clenched so hard I think he might hurt himself.

"At. Home." he spits between his teeth. "Taking care of my daughter."

"Anyone who can confirm that?"

"My daughter," he huffs.

Haha, that's funny.

_Are you taking this seriously?_

"Anyone else?"

"Reception, down stairs can help you out with that."

"Very well."

Teddy and the detectives bounced a few more questions and answers between them. I think my father makes a comment or two. I stare at Detective Clarke, but I don't really see him. But I am suddenly transported to a different place. I see the deep brown of the wood, the grey carpeted floor, and the electric fans above me – memories from the court room.

"Sophie?" Teddy says, pulling me from my past.

I didn't realise Clarke and Khalil were leaving. I say goodbye and hurry them out the door.

"Are you okay?" Teddy asks after they've left.

I blink and stand slowly.

"Fine," I say, as I make my way to the bedroom.

My head feels like its tipping and rocking side to side on an arc.

"I need to lie down."

* * *

I didn't see Teddy or Annie the day after the detectives came. We spoke over the phone for about an hour. I think he was worried about what the detectives implied about him, he even sent me a bunch of lovely white carnations. But I messaged him several times to show I wasn't afraid of him. Still, neither of us drove round. In fact, I barely left my room.

The day after Teddy came around, we didn't speak a lot. He tried to get me to draw something – part of that art therapy thing. I gave up with a blank page after ten minutes, I couldn't think of anything the draw, and really I felt like an idiot. I got a lot of reading done. And Teddy mostly scrawled in that notebook I gave him, and played with Annie. For a while I watched them, entertained by Annie spitting formula back out at her father – he had to find one of his brother's t-shirts to change into.

11 o'clock rolls around quickly on Saturday morning. I sit waiting in the Grey's living room, perched on the edge of their white sofa, toying with the edge of my jumper. I wonder if I should have dressed nicer, instead of jeans and Converse. I have a small pile of my work files, fringed with page markers, on my lap.

"Come on, Sophie," Mr Grey says, suddenly in the room, "let's talk in my office."

"Oh okay," I mutter, a hurry after him.

"Drink?" he asks, when we get to his office.

"No, thank you," I say. My voice is caught in my throat so I clear it. My heart is pounding in my chest. I feel like I'm going for a very important job interview.

"Please, don't just stand there. Have a seat."

I nod and go to sit in the chair opposite him at his desk. He looks slightly amused.

"It's just," he explains, sensing my curiosity, "you're acting the way I had imagined you would have, during your first days at GEH. Quiet and hesitant. Well, at least, how it would have been if the circumstances weren't…"

"Oh right," I say, before he can finish.

"But of course, you were extremely enthusiastic when you started. Some might say, a little _too_ enthusiastic. But, what can I do for you today?"

"I just have a few questions."

I proceed to flip through the folders and ask the questions I have. There aren't many; the folders are pretty easy to understand.

"And just one last question: about my position at the company. What … is it exactly? I mean, there's a few different titles in the files."

I flip through them quickly, pointing them out.

"Chief Financial Officer, is your official job title. That's the job was always meant to be yours - and the job you did for the first few years. Then when you were about 27, the position for Chief Operating Officer opened up. No one else was good enough, so you became temporary COO, until we could find someone else - you were very good as COO, but I think you'd still more to learn from being CFO. But, not too long ago, my vice president and second in command, Ros Bailey, became ill very suddenly - lung cancer - so we put together a VP Team so take care of her duties while she was battling her illness. There was no one else I would have chosen for Vice President of Finance. When Ros got better, you went back to CFO."

Ros Bailey - I remember reading about her in Forbes magazine, during my college years, but had never met her. I admired her completely. I'm glad she's well.

Now, that I'm done asking questions, I don't know what to say.

"Do I scare you that bad?"

What? Huh? Wow, talk about a change of subject.

I can feel my cheeks get warm.

"Scare? No," I say. "Okay, a little bit."

He lets out a short, humourless, laugh.

"You scare me too, you know?"

"Me? Scare you?"

"Yes," he shrugs. "How good you are at your job scares me. How well you command a room. How far you've come. How much Teddy loves you, and how much he would do anything for you."

"That scares you?"

"Yes. But it's the good kind of scared. When you're scared but happy and excited at the same time."

"Oh," though I'm still confused.

"You'll understand soon enough - when Anouk is older."

I don't respond.

"So, how are you getting along?"

"I'm okay," I lie.

His grey eyes tell me that he doesn't believe me. But he moves on anyways.

"How's Teddy? He told me that he's fine, but how is he really?"

"He's stressed and very tired," I say. "But I think, he's handling it."

"Just as I suspected. Poor guy. No one should have to deal with what you're both going through"

_Especially Teddy._

I nod.

"Especially Teddy?" Mr Grey asks.

Shit, did I say that aloud?

_Apparently._

"It's just…" I try to explain. "That he… he's 22 – 23 in two weeks. And he's married and has a child. And deals with this as well. I just don't want the years to pass and he forget about his dreams. He should be out with his friends. Enjoying life and freedom. And…"

"Stop. You can't keep thinking about him like he's a kid. You shouldn't have to worry about that – that's my job. If you have that kind of mind set you'll never get passed thinking about him like a little brother."

_He has a point you know. _

"Besides," he continues. "He's very mature – always has been. Little old man."

He smiles fondly, I imagine that some memory of his son plays in his head.

"He is enjoying life and freedom. He's just doing it with you beside him."

"With me of all people," I mutter.

For the first time, I didn't have someone look back at me like I started speaking in Dothraki. But I could see that he understood. Not like he thought I was a bad person too, but like he knew what it's like to truly believe that you're unworthy.

"Nobody sees what you see when you look at yourself," he mutters, as if he could hear my thoughts. "What they say makes sense, but they don't understand that no matter what they say, they can never change the view that you have of yourself. And you want to change how you feel but you just can't."

I nod.

"You'll learn that you can," he says. "I have no doubt of it."

"I don't know what I have to do," I murmur.

"You have to learn to forgive yourself. Know that some of it may be your own fault. But certainly not all of it. And you don't have to carry the world. Then finally come to the conclusion that you're not half bad."

"That's much harder than you make it sound."

"I know. Believe me, I know."

I wonder what he's talk about – what specifically, when, what feeling?

"But one step at a time and you will be just fine," he says. "It'll take a long time – it took me four children to realise that I wasn't as bad as I thought."

"What does it feel like? To not feel like this?"

He purses his lips together for a little while.

"Free… and light."

I nod. I wish I could really know what that feels like.

"Is that why we're friends?" I ask with caution. "Because we both have this…"

"Darkness?" he offers.

"Well, yes."

"Yes, that's part of it. There are many other similarities between us, as well. There's more of an _understanding _than anything else – I think, we both take comfort in that".

That's a nice thought.

"But, I think, that's is why I am most scared of you; I see a lot of myself in you."

We sit for a moment.

"Thank you, Mr Grey," I say.

I'm not just referring to the fact that he answered my questions about work, but because I get the feeling that this is his way of telling me that he understands how I feel, and he's here if I need him.

"You're very welcome," he smiles. "Oh, and Sophie?"

"Yes?"

"Mr Grey at work. And Christian at home."

"Christian," I nod.

* * *

"Sophie!" I can hear my dad call. "Dinner's ready!"

"One minute!" I call back, from my bedroom.

"How was it?" Teddy asks, on the phone.

"It was okay"

"You okay? I know he can be a little scary sometimes, he was nice to you, right?"

"Of course, he was," I laugh. "In fact, I almost forgot who I was talking to at one point – he's very easy to talk to once you get into the conversation."

"What did you talk about?"

"Just stuff."

"Sophie!" my dad calls again.

"Coming!" I call back. I don't move from where I'm lounging across my bed.

"What kind of stuff? Did he answer all your questions?" Ted asks.

"Yes, he did – he was very helpful. And then we just talked about you and me."

"You and me?"

"He asked how we were. He seemed quite… reminiscent."

"He's getting old," Teddy laughs.

"He still looks very young. Even though he's a grandfather."

"You're very fond of him," Teddy suddenly says.

"So, I've been told."

_Why don't I like where this is going?_

What? Where is it going?

"So, you like him a lot?"

"I certainly admire him."

"Many people like him," Teddy says. "Especially women".

"Well, I guess they would – he's very charming."

"And good looking."

Oh dear lord, this is where this is going.

"Teddy…"

"Look, all I'm saying is that you're very fond of him. And when you were younger you used to stare at him a lot – and I've always wondered why."

"Teddy, don't be ridiculous. I used to stare at him because I wondered if that was what you would look like when you got older."

"Oh," he says. "You never told me that before."

"I guess, I never thought it was necessary to tell you. And I was right, by the way, because you do look a lot like him."

"Sophie! Now!" Dad calls again. I don't respond.

"So… you didn't have a crush on him then?"

"No!" I laugh – the idea is so ridiculous, I really can't take it seriously. "Don't be disgusting – I mean, not that your father is disgusting. But that's gross, he's like… well, not like my father or anything, but like… an uncle."

"An uncle?"

"Yes. A kind, but sometimes scary, and always intimidating, uncle"

"Oh, okay then," I can tell he is smiling.

"Silly," I laugh.

"What can I say; I'm a jealous man, Miss Taylor."

"I'm starting to realise that".

"Sophie Taylor!" I hear my dad call. "Dinner!"

"I think, I have to go," I say. "Apparently, I'm being disrespectful to my food by making it wait a little for me to come along and I eat it."

"I should put Annie down to sleep, anyway," he laughs.

"Oh, let me say goodnight?"

I hear a shuffling of the phone.

"Aa!"

"Goodnight, Cherub," I say.

"Ababa!"

"She missed you today," Ted says.

"I missed her too," I say.

"See you, tomorrow?"

"Sounds good."

"SOPHIE!"

"Oh! Bye, bye!" I say, before hanging up.

* * *

"Come on," dad says, after dinner. "I'll do it with you."

We sit in the living room floor, with our backs resting against the sofa. My dad's put out paper and crayons on the coffee table.

"But I can't draw!" I complain.

"Neither can I".

I cross my arms over my chest. He ignores me and picks up a crayon and starts drawing something.

I sit there for another minute before picking up a blue crayon. I don't know what to draw. I don't want to draw people, because my drawing skills will just make it offensive. Maybe I could draw things that I like. I don't know how to draw food. And I don't really feel like drawing a car right now – plus, that might get over analysed by someone. I rack my brain until I decide to draw a stuffed bear. Mostly the drawing is made out of circles of different shapes a sizes – it looks more like a balloon with limbs. But, I've done worse. Beside it I draw a kitten, hoping this time my proportions are better – which they are. I leisurely colour them in.

It's actually quite relaxing. And using crayons makes it feel not so serious and scary. When I'm done, I've coloured in the bear in different shades of blue, and the kitten in red and orange.

"That's a nice teddy bear," my dad says.

I smile at him.

"Thanks."

"But why is it next to the devil?"

"Papa! That's a kitten!"

"Oh!" he laughs. "Sorry, I see it now".

I look over at his drawing.

"What is that?"

"My masterpiece"

"You spent all that time drawing a circle and colouring it pink."

"It's a meatball!"

"Why is it pink?" I laugh.

"It's abstract – it's what you looked like when you were a baby; fat and round," he laughs.

"Papa!" I laugh.

"I'm just messing with you._"_

He ruffles my hair, before squashing me to him, and kissing my head.

"Ti amo, _polpetta."_

"Ti amo, Papa."

_Apparently, everyone is reminiscent today. _

Perhaps we're all getting old.

For the first time, I feel a mournful sting of sadness for the time I forgot – not for the important things like Teddy and Annie – but for the smaller things: holidays, birthdays, Christmas', and the everyday growth that I had lost. I push it aside, and try drawing another picture.

* * *

**A/N: Hey, guys! I've gone back over what I've written so far, and just edited some bits to generally clarify and tighten things up, also taken your reviews into consideration. They're not massive changes at all, so don't feel like you have to re-read it if you don't want, the story line is exactly the same still.**

**New chapter will be coming soon, **

**Courtney xxx**


	18. More

**Sophie **

"I don't like shopping."

"You don't have to shop. You're just going to spend the day with the girls. But, if you really don't want to go we can just tell them that you don't feel up to it anymore."

"But I do want to see them."

"Good."

"Can you come too?"

"I have some stuff that I have to do. You'll be accompanied by Boyd, Hewitt and McCarthy."

Emily Boyd is one of the personal security for Elliott and Kate Grey's children, when they need it. And Chloe Hewitt is my newly assigned female CPO – for 'when the situation calls for female intervention' as Teddy put it, but really that just means they think I need protecting when I go to the ladies' room. I'm surprised that Cooper isn't accompanying us, it would have made me more comfortable. I thought that he was always with me, but Teddy says today he'll be more useful at home than with me, which is a bit strange. But I don't want to think too much about it. On top of that, it'll be the first time I'll have Annie without Teddy being within arm's reach.

There's a tap on the door before Cooper walks in with Penelope, who is holding hands with a petite woman with cropped, honey-coloured hair, and large, light brown eyes. Behind them is a younger girl, but tall, with curly blonde hair and green eyes. I can't help but grin at her – and she gives me a huge, dimpled smile back.

"Hello, Ava," I say.

"Hi, Sophie," she says.

"And you must be Fiona," I say to the small woman. "I've heard so much about you. It's nice to finally meet you."

She smiles sweetly, and gives me an unexpected hug.

"It's good to see you, Sophie," she says.

"Ladies," Teddy greets them. "What time did you say you'll be back?"

"Don't worry, loverboy, we'll be back around four-ish," Pen says.

"I'm just making sure," Teddy laughs. "Don't rush."

"Have we got all of Anouk's things?" I asks.

"Yeah, it's already packed," Teddy says. "Do you have your phone?"

"Yeah."

"Do you need my card?"

"No. I have mine."

"And, you'll stay close to security?"

"Of course."

"Well, I'll see you later then."

"Bye Teddy," I smile.

"Bye"

"Bye Teddy bear," Pen calls.

"Bye Shnookums," Fiona laughs.

"Bye bye, bubby-wubby," Ava coos.

"Okaay…" I say, feeling blood run to my cheeks. "Let's go!"

I hurry them out the door, as they continue to laugh.

"You're so embarrassing," I mutter, as I manoeuvre Annie's stroller into the lift.

"Aww," Pen says, "we're just teasing."

"How are you?" Fiona asks me.

"I'm okay. A bit stressed is all."

_A bit?_

"Yeah, Ted mentioned that, that's why he thought this would be a good idea."

"This was Ted's idea?"

"Yeah, didn't you know?"

"He said that you guys had called and wanted to go out."

"Oh, strange."

"Quite"

But I know he lied because if I knew it was him, I wouldn't even have allowed him to arrange it. I'm sure he's just trying to get me cheered up.

We spend the next few hours wondering up and down Pine Street.

Ava has come to Seattle for a few days, for Grandma Grace's birthday. She's currently studying Costume Design at San Francisco's Academy of Art University. She beautiful and talented and talks about clothing in a completely different way than I've ever heard – she explains it's part of culture, art and personality, it's part of who you are. She was just telling me about the new project she's working on about Asian military uniforms in the 1600s, when Pen yanks at my arm pointed vigorously at a mannequin.

"That one! That one!"

"For what?"

"Grammy's birthday," Ava says.

"Oh."

I didn't know I needed a new outfit.

_Might as well, while we're here._

I struggle to shuffle into the little aisle space with the stroller but eventually I get there.

I'm sure strollers were never this hard before.

_Actually, it's just your wrist that's not working properly. _

My wrist is fine now.

_Not when you put too much pressure on it. _

I don't bother to argue with the girls about the outfit. If I don't use it for the party I'll use it some other time. Teddy's birthday is coming up soon as well.

"What are we doing for it anyway?"

"It's just a barbeque at grandma and grandpa's house. Pen and Fiona, you're always welcome to come too."

"We'd love to but we've both got things to do that day," Fiona sighs.

The outfit is a white, A-line tulle skirt with a grey, knit sweater tucked in. Just as I go to pick my size of the rack I realise that I don't actually know my proper size. I used to be a small, but with the weight I've put on over the past week, plus the baby weight – my breasts, stomach and thighs are somewhat bigger – I'm not sure what I'm doing.

"I have to go try these on," I said, picking up medium sizes and large.

"Do you want to take Anouk with you, or we can watch her?"

"If you could watch her that would be great," I sigh.

"No problem."

I head off to the changing rooms, and Hewitt follows behind, once I'm in my own cubicle, I sit on the bench for a couple of minutes, just to breathe and rest my leg. With all the movement I've been doing over the past few days my still recovering muscle is just now acting up.

I check my phone whilst I'm there.

There's one email from Teddy.

###

From: Theodore Grey

Subject: Check-up

Date: May 13, 2035. 11:36

To: Sophie Taylor-Grey

Hi,

Are you doing alright?

The girls aren't giving you too much trouble are they? How's Annie? Is she behaving?

Email me back as soon as you see this.

Theodore Grey

###

From: Sophie Taylor-Grey

Subject: Chill

Date: May 13, 2035. 13:28

To: Theodore Grey

Teddy, please stop worrying. I'm fine. Annie's fine. We're all fine.

You'll grey prematurely at the rate you're going.

I'll see you at dinner.

Sophie Taylor-Grey

Chief Financial Officer, Grey Enterprise Holding Inc.

###

Feeling better, I try on the clothes. The medium skirt fits fine and the large sweater fits comfortably over my torso– it's a little baggy at the arms, but I think it works fine as an over-sized style.

I stay in the changing rooms a bit longer. It feels like it's been a long time since I've been alone by myself. I realise that it will be a long time still before I can leave the house by myself. I cherish this moment of being alone in a public place for just a while longer, before Miss Hewitt is knocking on my door.

"Miss Sophie," she says. "Are you okay in there?"

"Yes, I'm fine," I sigh.

I leave with her and we find the others have moved to the baby section. My shopping companions have picked up several things for Annie.

"You know she'll grow out of them very soon," I tell them.

I laugh at the resounding sigh that comes from them, and they decide between them to put down a few items. I let them run with it for a while, so I can just not think about things for a while longer.

I usually don't enjoy shopping that much, but I have to admit it's good to be out and about doing something normal. When they're done I pay for my new outfit and a few bits for Annie, including a red check dress and bloomers for the party.

"What did you get for grandma Grace?" I ask.

"Brandon and I went halves on a bracelet," Ava says.

"Do you think she'll like a locket for a picture of Annie?"

"She'll love that."

We find the perfect locket in Tiffany's, it's a simple heart shape with a daisy design on the front. I'd get Teddy his present too, but I already know what I want to get him, and I can't get it here.

By four o'clock we've bought all the things that Pen claimed we needed but we really didn't need, and the others can tell that I'm slowing down.

"I think it's home time," Fiona says.

"I think so too," I say with a yawn.

Annie is asleep in her stroller, and I wish that I was small enough to climb in and take a nap beside her.

The girls stay with me until we arrive back to the apartment. I take Annie in her baby seat up in the lift. Hewitt and Boyd take up the other baby stuff and shopping in a separate lift. The girls wait in the car for Boyd to take them home.

When I get in the apartment no one comes to greet me, I pout.

I find Teddy and Papa huddled over something on the table. They don't seem to notice that I'm there. I set Annie's carrier seat down and I was about to announce myself but -

_Shut up, _subconscious says. _Something is wrong. _

They don't turn as I get closer, but I see it's a sheet of paper and open envelope that they're staring at. The envelope is addressed to me and it's not a letter that I've opened.

I frown and snatch up the letter before Teddy or my dad can stop me.

"Sophie," Teddy says, trying to take it from me. I dodge his attempts.

_My love, _

_I am so sorry. I'm sorry for what happened. I never intended for you to be harmed. If I had known that it was you in the car I never would have done what I did. I hope that you can forgive me. With all things as they are, it is important to look on the bright side of things- you told me that once. It might be hard to see the silver lining, but we've been blessed with a chance to start again. _

_You don't remember the mistake you made. The boy will be gone soon, and, if you really desire, you could keep your baby. We could raise it together, like our plans from a long, long time ago. _

_You keep slipping from my fingers, but this time I won't let you. Don't fret we will be together again soon. _

It's not signed.

"When did this arrive?"

"Last night," dad answers. "2am. Hand delivered, came with the flowers. Left just outside the door."

I spot the bouquet of white roses on the kitchen counter that I didn't see before.

"You've analysed it."

I knew he would have had it done immediately.

"We're still waiting on results"

"CCTV?"

"He came in through the front doors, night guard had gone to get a coffee, the intruder slipped right past. He had a hood. Can't get a clear image of his face. But he's about 5ft 10, 170lbs, well built"

"Anything else?"

"There aren't any finger prints"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"We thought it would be too much for you," Teddy jumps in.

"Too much," I scoff.

"The stress. I didn't want to stress you more than you already are."

"So you thought you'd not tell me about advances in the case?"

"_How _is this an advance?"

"Anything that happens is better than waiting around in the dark."

"I just thought I was protecting you."

"Again, by not telling me that the guy who almost killed me came here in the middle of the fucking night to deliver roses and a twisted love letter?"

My head is spinning, I should really sit down but I don't.

"This is why I didn't want to tell you… You're stressing out."

"I wouldn't be if you have just told me!"

I turn, pick up a now awake Annie and storm out of the apartment. Since I can't drive or go _anywhere_ really. I march over to my neighbour's door and knock rather forcefully. The door opens in two seconds, and Cooper stands aside, letting me in, as if he knew what I as there for.

His apartment looks exactly like ours just without the mural, and with more homelike pieces around the room, like photo frames and a radio and a large Blu-ray selection.

"Did you know?" I ask.

"Yes, ma'am"

I take Anouk out of her carrier and lay her on the couch. I sit on the floor beside her, and Cooper puts a plate of cookies and a glass of apple juice in front of me.

I stuff a cookie in my mouth and sulk like a child for a few seconds.

"You knew that I was coming back early though."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And you didn't tell them."

"No, ma'am"

He sits in a chair opposite me.

"Aren't you supposed to tell Teddy stuff like that?"

"I answer to you, not Mr Ted"

He purposely let me catch them. I like this man more and more as the days go by, especially today.

"They why didn't you tell me."

"There is only one person I answer to before you, and that's your father. I'd never want to get on the wrong side of that man."

"Fair enough. But you don't tell him everything that happens with me do you?"

"Of course not. No person wants their parents to know everything about them."

"Do you know everything about me?"

"Not everything. But I dare say I am one of the people who knows you best. I think the only person who perhaps knows more is Mr Ted."

I'm glad he didn't try to make out that I knew myself the best – because I really didn't.

"What do you think of the letter then?"

"It's clear that it wasn't supposed to be you in the car, but your husband. But that doesn't mean that you're not the target. He was supposed to kill Mr Ted and steal you away. He's obsessed with you. And it's someone you know – or did know before. He believes that you still remember him. So he's either so delusional that he thinks that you would have forgotten your husband and child but not him, or he's from _before _you were 21."

"Any idea who it could be?"

"I have a list."

"A _list_?"

"He believes he's a past lover. I have a list of your past lovers."

I feel my face heat up.

"How long is this list?"

"Longer than the average person's perhaps. But not massive long."

"Do I want to know how many?"

"Not yet."

"Okay, I believe you."

"But one day I'm going to come here for tea, and you're going to dish out all my dirty secrets"

He smiles widely.

I take a drink of apple juice.

"He's going to make another attack, isn't he?"

"Yes."

I look at Cooper for a moment. I think he knows what I'm thinking because he asks:

"Am I scaring you"?

"A little," I admit. "Why aren't you…"

"Cushioning things up?"

"Yeah"

"The woman I knew didn't appreciate cushiness very much"

"Thank you."

"You're welcome"

I eat another cookie and glance around the apartment.

"Did I come here often?"

"Quite often, when you were lonely."

"What did we do?"

"Talk," he shrugged. "Watch a movie. But you came around much less when Mr Ted moved in. Then you just came when you were angry."

I suddenly remember that I was supposed to be angry now.

"How dare they" I sigh. "I'm not a three year old. I don't need them to decide what I should and shouldn't know. I am a grown up, for crying out loud!"

"Mm hm"

"And Teddy even made me feel bad about not wanting to go out with the girls, this morning."

"Mmm"

"_And _I thought he was gonna be really busy with work so I left him to it. But honestly! Who does he think he is?! He can't just take away my choices like that. _And_ isn't opening someone else's mail a felony or something?!"

"It is. Would you like to press charges?"

"No," I say.

He looks at me expectantly.

"I should go tell all this to them, shouldn't I?"

"Yes. And I know it's no excuse, but they are both very stubborn. They were wrong, but they did _truly _believe that they were doing the best thing for you."

"You're right."

Cooper helped me up from the floor and collect Annie.

"Cooper, I wasn't having an affair was I?"

"No ma'am," he laughs as if he thinks the whole idea is ridiculous. "But you should know ma'am, I do feel obligated to give that list of ex's to the detectives."

"Do you really have to?"

"If it means we can catch the fucker faster and keep you safe, yes."

"Okay," I sigh. "Just try to not let my dad see it."

"I'll try my best. But knowing him he'll find out everything about the investigation anyway."

My face goes red, I seriously hope that list isn't _too _long.


	19. The Rose and The Bird

**Phoebe **

Ted agreed to pick me up from the airport when I get home tomorrow morning. He told me all about the telling off he and Uncle T got from Sophie the other day. I tried not the laugh down the phone, but it serves them right.

It's nine o'clock in the evening and I'm writing up my lecture notes when there's a knock on my door. When I open it I'm greeted by a large bouquet of pale pink flowers. Behind it, stands Jude looking tall and lean.

My mouth pops open.

_Holy crap, he's here!_

"Surprise," he says.

His smile is the biggest I know. It makes his dark brown eyes a bit brighter.

"What are you doing here?" I laugh.

"Just checking in."

I let him inside and give him a big hug.

"I can't believe you're here."

"I'm going to New York tomorrow, I thought I'd stop by to see you. You don't have an assignment do you?"

"No," I smile. I go to put the flowers in water.

"Exam you have to study for?"

"No."

"Good. We're going out."

"We are?"

"You study too much and I missed you."

"You're crashing here," I say.

"I am?"

"You drink too much, and I missed you too."

I grab a jumper and my purse, and we head out the door. We go to the bar I usually go to with my university friends. At least half the people here must go to Yale too. I wave at Gregg behind the bar, I order two beers before pulling Jude over to a quiet corner by the pool table.

"How are things?" he asks.

We have to lean close to each other so we can hear over the noise. It's Friday so naturally quite busy.

"It is a bit of a mess back at home. But there's not much I can do."

"But you? What's happening with you?"

"I'm fine. Nothing at all. You?"

"About the same."

It's silent for a few seconds and I can feel the awkwardness getting thicker.

_Be bold like your father, _I tell myself.

"If you meant am I seeing anyone right now, I'm not."

He blinks at me, shocked. At first I start to think he didn't mean that at all, and I've just embarrassed myself. But then he smiles.

"Me neither," he says.

"Cool," I mutter.

I down my beer as fast as I can before going to get another one.

"Pool?" he asks when I get back.

I nod, and pick up a cue. We play for a while. Every time he thinks he's winning I pocket a few more balls to show him otherwise. I down another beer before moving on to shots. Neither of us have eaten and I can feel the alcohol affecting my balance. I win the game and give Jude a smile.

"Don't look so smug, Grey," he says. "My dance moves are still better than yours."

"I seriously doubt it. I've been practising," I laugh.

I let him take my hand and pull me over to the dance floor. We weave our way into the crowd, I keep close to him so I don't get lost. The song is fast and upbeat. I lift my arms up and sway my hips. Jude sways with me. He moves at the exact same time as I do, like magnets. I think we are so attuned to each other. Still. Even when I haven't seen him in months. I spin around so my back is to him. His hands go to my hips and I let them stay there. I close my eyes and let body move to the music. My hips grind against Jude. He pulls me closer to him, leaning around to talk in my ear.

"When you say you've been practising I hope you mean _alone_ in your room."

I laugh, and hit him lightly on the shoulder. I turn around to face him again. His dance moves are as good as mine. Some people around us are surely staring, but I don't care for them, neither does Jude. His attention is on me, and mine on him, like it always is when we're together.

We don't talk much. But there's lots of laughing at each other. I didn't realise exactly how much I missed him.

I've danced off the alcohol by the time we leave. But Jude drank a lot more than I did, and I have to keep an arm under him during the walk home so he doesn't fall over.

My apartment is so quiet there's a loud ringing in my ears when we get inside.

I get us some water, and a pillow and blanket for the couch. I make sure Jude is comfortable before getting ready for bed. I sit on the floor beside the couch where he lies.

This is the time we do most our talking. We talk about our families, university, grandma Grace's birthday, his brother in New York. We talk about high school, the people we used to know. We talk about the next time we'll meet.

"You shouldn't be on your own," he says. His eyes are closed now.

"I don't mind living on my own. It's a small apartment anyway," I say.

"Still, it's safer to be with someone."

"If you had come to Yale with me we could have been flatmates"

"I like–"

"the UCLA Engineering course better. I know, I know. But I miss you."

"You shouldn't be alone," he says again. "You should have someone to take care of you."

"I'm fine on my own."

His opens his eyes, they are unfathomably dark in this light.

"I should've been there."

He doesn't have to name what he's talking about now; I already know. I almost roll my eyes heavenwards but I know he takes the matter very seriously.

"We've been over this before. You we're studying. It's fine. It's dealt with. Harvey is away. It's done."

"I would have strangled him with his own necktie," he says through his teeth.

If Sophie was here she'd have a go at him; she _hates_ that kind of talk.

"Don't say stuff like that," I say.

He shakes his head.

"You can't be alone forever. You shouldn't be holding off. I don't mean with me. I just mean if you're interested in someone else you shouldn't hold back."

"I'm not interested in someone else," I say.

He doesn't say anything back. He closes his eyes again.

I better get to sleep, we both have flights to catch tomorrow morning.

I lean forward and place kiss on his cheekbone.

"Goodnight, Jude," I say getting up and leaving the room.

There's not much time to say anything in the morning. I leave earlier than I needed so I could share a cab to the airport with Jude. I take his hand and hold in the whole cab ride, and as we enter the airport, and still when we have brunch at a café.

It's mostly quiet between us. But it's not awkward, it's just comfortable. He doesn't let go of my hand unless I want him to. Which I don't. But eventually he has to go.

"Don't wait too long to see me again," I say.

"And you too. Waiting too long... It drives me crazy."

The double meaning in his words is obvious.

_If you don't you'll always be asking 'what if?'_, Sophie's voice rings clear in my head.

I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him close to me. I nuzzle his neck and cheek. He holds me against him. It is clear we are no longer _just_ friends. But we're not a couple either. We're in some sort of weird place between the two.

"Just a bit longer," I beg. "Please."

He nods.

He rests his forehead against mine for a while.

"I wouldn't hurt you," he says.

"I love you therefore it will hurt like nothing else does"

"Only if things go wrong. I don't plan in things going wrong."

"Nobody really does," I say.

_Be brave like your mother, _I tell myself.

I kiss him. Just a peck really. Not a real kiss. But my mouth fits with his for a second. Then it's over. I pull away and we let go.

"I'll see you soon," he says.

I nod.

He smiles at me, and I can't help but smile back.

* * *

**A/N: I hope you liked this chapter. It's kind of short, but I wanted to get back to Phoebe and Jude. **

**Also, a note about my posting. I'm about to go into my last term at uni, so updates will be limited. But I do intend to update more regularly than I have been doing (part of my New Years Resolution). Updates will depend on my uni work load. Which means if I'm super busy i****t might be one chapter over two weeks. If I'm super not-busy it might be two chapters over one week. ****The aim is get one chapter up every week. But I make no promises.**

**By April I'll be finished with university so my updates will be more frequent at that time. The plot is speeding up, so I'm definitely more motivated to write. However, we still have a long road ahead of us. **

**Thank you for all the follows and favourites. And lovely comments/reviews _always_ make my day. Also, feel free to PM me if you have questions about the story, those are fun too. Special thanks to Sierrabrookemarie, as your simple PMs have made me very happy during my _very_ boring week.**

**Next update will be soon. (And actually sooner than the last time I said that, lol. Promise.)**

**Hope you are all well, **

**Courts xxx **


	20. Little Spark

**Sophie**

My dad came to stop my screaming this morning. He and Gail have the day off today. We have breakfast together before Isabella comes running in.

I spend the rest of my morning kicking a soccer ball around with Isabella and Papa in front of the garage. My body knows better than I do that I haven't done this in a while. Papa stops me from getting too competitive, before I hurt myself. My leg was already hurting but I wasn't going to tell them that.

Isabella joins us for lunch as well. We have chicken and avocado sandwiches, and Isabella teaches us words in Japanese. She finds my pronunciation hilarious. 'Ohayōgozaimasu' and 'ichi, ni, san' is the extent my tiny brain can manage.

Papa turned the TV on to some documentary about lions, and tries to get me to drawing something again. I only draw Papa and a car, but I'm pretty relaxed after that, I almost don't want to move anywhere. But by two-thirty I have to start getting ready. I take a long, warm shower. I part my hair in the middle and pulled it back into a low bun. My hair was thick enough to hide the side with the undercut. I put on my red lipstick, and a bit of mascara. The outfit I bought goes well with a pair of heels I found back at the apartment. I made sure to put Dr. Grace's present in my purse.

Papa and Gail are ready to go when I get downstairs. We wait for Mr Grey, Ana and Isabella in the Audi Q7 SUV. It's so strange to me. I've never driven like this before. With Papa and Mr Grey in a car, not as staff and employer but as family. Isabella climbs in the back with by herself, and Ana sits next to Gail. Mr Grey takes the passenger seat, of course.

"Ladies, you all look lovely," Mr Grey says.

"Thank you," I mutter.

The drive is quiet at first.

"Will Seth be there?" I ask.

"No, he couldn't catch a flight in time," Ana says.

"Oh, that's shame," I say.

"Everyone else will be there though," Isabella chirps up. "Brandon's been super excited to see you."

My heart skips a beat. I had almost forgotten about my curiosity. Is Brandon still as he was as a child – as free-spirited as his father? What about Monroe and Asher, how have they grown into young men? Is little Etty still little? And the twins, are they still as inseparable as they once were?

I fiddle with the hem of my skirt and stare out the window.

We drive past the Space Needle, and Pike Place Market, and eventually over the expressway. Lake Washington ripples below us. I stare at the blue water.

And soon it turns dark. Black now, I can barely see it. If it weren't for the lights it reflected I might have thought it was the abyss. Orange and yellow lights bouncing off the waves. It's night time.

I'm pulled out of my vision by a nudge to my side. I look over. Everything is bright again. Ana and Gail are looking at me with rather concerned expressions on their faces. Gail must have been calling me. She glances at my hands, and I realise I'm clutching my skirt in my fists, and breathing heavily. I let go of my skirt and smooth it down. In the rear-view mirror I see Papa is looking concerned, but he doesn't take his eyes off the road.

"Are you okay?" Ana asks.

"Yes," I even out my breathing, and sit back in my seat.

Damn memories, I think.

_At least we remembered something._

The water at night. Great! So helpful.

I almost roll my eyes at our internal conversation.

Soon enough we roll up in front of the white marble mansion. It's beautiful. It's got a large parking space for plenty of visitors, plus a spacious garage, and more than enough lawn for children to play. There's a porch were I can imagine Grace and Carrick drink ice tea on a hot day. And white roses around the door and below the porch make it that much more picture perfect. Not the mention it's _huge_.

Someone opens my door and I look up to find Teddy. I take his hand and he pulls me into his arms.

"Hello, beautiful," he says, only loud enough for me to hear.

"Hi," I smile.

He keeps an arm around me as he leads me inside. Our parents and sister walk ahead of us.

"Everyone has been bugging me about seeing you," Teddy says. "But I've told them not to bombard you. So if they keep bothering you, tell me and I'll get them to stop."

"Thanks, Teddy."

Inside the house the foyer is large, there's sweeping staircases, and dark wooden floor. I don't know where to look, all of it is beautiful. It's fit for a king and queen.

Before the door is shut behind us, I'm attacked. A very large person has me trapped in a bear hug and swings me around in a circle. My feet are far from the floor.

"Brandon!" A woman shouts.

Brandon puts me down. He is larger than his father. Taller than me at least a foot and a half. And his smile is as bright as it has always been. He laughs. He's still got his blonde curls and pale blue eyes.

"We missed you, sis," he says, patting my head. "And don't worry about the fucker who did this to you, we'll get him soon."

"Brandon!" the woman shouts again.

Kate Grey comes storming up to her eldest son. She's tall and slim, with short strawberry blond hair. Brandon backs away a little holding his hands up in surrender. I laugh.

"Come on, Sophie," Kate takes my arm and pulls me further into the house.

I didn't know Kate as well as I knew her husband. She was Ana's best friend and I saw her often. I babysat her kids, but I had never really had a proper conversation with her. I wonder if we got a bit closer over the years. Uncle El was always more playful. He gives me another bear hug when we pass him in the kitchen. He's making cocktails with Ethan Kavanagh.

The back garden is as big as the meadow back at The Big House. The porch has steps going down into a spacious green space. It's the kind of garden you expect a palace to have, perfectly shaped hedges, blooming rose bushes, and evenly spaces flowers of white, pink and red.

Tables and chairs have been placed around the grounds. People mill about eating, drinking and talking. I think we're the last to arrive.

Under a canopy a row of four men in white chef's aprons turn meats over silver grills. It looks closer to an outdoor kitchen then the barbecue stand that I was expecting. The smell of barbecue permeates the air, and my stomach rumbles.

So when they say barbecue party...

_They mean a really big party with a barbecue. _

I stifle my laugh.

The whole family really is here. Dr Grace's husband is speaking is with Mr Grey. He smiles kindly and waves at me. Annie is being bounced happily on Mr Grey's sister's lap. Papa and Gail go straight to Dr Grey to wish her happy birthday and thank her for the invite. Teddy takes my hand as two young girls come skipping up to me. Their raven hair and green eyes are a sight to behold. I can't believe they're all grown up now. They smile, expectantly, but don't say anything.

"Let's see," I say, and look closely at their faces. Pippa has a small beauty mark under her left eye. But when I look they both have one. "One of you is Pippa and the other is an incredible make-up artist."

They laugh. I give both of them a hug and kiss on the forehead before descending the stairs.

Asher and Monroe sit at a table by themselves totally immersed in a card game they've laid out. I find Grandma Grace who's sitting in a chair talking with Etty. Etty is fourteen now, but petite and small for her age. I want to sit her on my lap like I used to when she was a toddler, but she's too old for that now. She gives me a big hug and kiss when she sees me. I stroke her soft strawberry blonde hair.

"Happy birthday," I say to Grace.

"Thank you, I'm so glad you're here," she says. "Everyone has been so excited to see you."

"I've been told," I sigh. "Today's not supposed to be about me."

"Oh," she scoffs. "I've had many birthdays. Don't you worry."

I give her the locket. Teddy added a picture of her and Annie. She loves it, and wears it now.

Teddy collects Annie from whichever family member she was playing with; it's time for her dinner. Teddy and Annie stay with me. We don't stray too far from the house and sometimes I can't help but stare at it, in all it's magnificent beauty. We sit with the twins while we eat. The food is delicious and I'm famished, but I try not to pig out too much in front of the entire Grey family and their friends. I find out that Daisy, the amazing make-up artist, is the one with shorter hair withbangs and Pippa has longer hair, so I can tell the difference if they try to trick me again. They're 17 now, and they'll be looking into colleges soon. Monroe and Asher join the conversation too. It looks like Asher is already something of a ladies man among the girls at his school. I laugh because he's only 15. Monroe is the most serious of Kate and Uncle El's boys. He's smart for his age, extremely intuitive and asks a lot of questions. Etty is a bit of a princess, protected by her brothers, and unsure of herself, but she's still young and has plenty of growing-up time. Brandon hasn't yet decided between New York or South Carolina universities. He's had a few beers by now – which I'm sure he's been stealing from the icebox, as Kate said he was only allowed one - and he's talking a bit louder than he needs to be.

"If Ted ever writes a biography about your life," he says to me. "You can trust me to create an award-winning masterpiece of a movie for it."

"I'll do costume design," Ava jokes.

"And I'm on make-up," Daisy says.

I laugh.

"Please don't ever write a book about my life," I say to Teddy. He laughs.

"But I was so looking forward to being location manager," someone says.

We all turn to look at the top of the steps stands a young man, with chocolate brown hair and grey eyes.

"Seth!" Ana cries, running over to him and hugging him.

"I hope I'm not too late," Seth smiles. "A seat on a flight became available last minute and I managed to snag it. Surprise!"

"I'm so glad you're here!" Grace hobbles over to him and gives him a kiss on the cheek.

Seth goes to catch up with his parents. And I watch Grace walk back over to her husband. I watch them for a while. They sit close together and talk. Carrick whispers something in her ear and she laughs. It warms my heart to see that even though their world is so big there's still a small space for them alone. A space for private jokes and memories just for them and no one else.

Then it slowly dawns on me, without them none of us would be here. I don't mean at the party, I mean in general. I've always been thankful for where my parents got me. But where would my father be without Mr Grey? And where would Mr Grey be if it weren't for Dr Grace Trevelyan-Grey? Would Teddy even exist? Or Phoebe? Or any of the rest of them?

I am in awe of this tiny woman. Decisions she made in the past have caused a chain of events that have brought us together.

And maybe I am not happy about what I'm dealing with. But I'm glad I'm dealing with it here, with this family, rather than anywhere else in the world.

My 13 year-old self would have wanted something like Grace's life. Success and family both together – husband, children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren. My 21 year-old self would have liked the idea but believed a life like that is not meant for me. Now I don't know anything about anything.

Teddy wants me to meet some more people. He takes me around the garden and introduces me to Mr and Mrs Kavanagh, Ethan and Kate's parents. Then he takes me over to one corner of to meet a man who's in his 60s, he leans on a walking stick.

"You remember my grandpa Ray?" Teddy says.

"A bit," I say, shaking the old man's hand.

I remember him briefly, he's Ana's dad, who Teddy is named after. We talk briefly, but he doesn't say too much, he reminds me of Papa. Then I meet Teddy's grandmother Carla and his 'other' grandfather, Bob.

I meet a few more of family friends. Including a man called Jose and his wife, Reina, and his young daughter Angie. Then I greet Dr Flynn, who I'm surprised to see here. He's with his wife, Rhian. And his one of his son's, Oliver, who is my age. He's excited to be getting married soon. Dr Flynn says his other son, Henry, couldn't make it. Oliver seems like a nice guy, and perhaps is someone who I would be friends with.

"Is Dr Flynn a close friend of the family then?" I ask Teddy when we move away from them.

"Quite. He is also my dad's psychiatrist as well"

I wan't expecting that information.

I want to ask why, what for but that's over stepping boundaries. Maybe it has to do with the abuse he suffered as a very young child before he was adopted. But I don't know much about that. If he struggles he hides it incredibly well; he always seems so in control.

Teddy keeps an arm around me. And we meet more friends. Many I have apparently met before. But I don't remember them. It's all fine at first but then there are so many I can't keep up with all the names. And some make comments about the crash. They are kind. Saying that they're very sorry to hear of it. And they're prayers and thoughts are with me. Some even comment on the burns on my face.

I smile and thank them, and say I'm just glad I'm alive. And thank them again.

Sometimes I overhear people talking about me. And soon enough it gets to my head I start to feel like I'm the gossip of the party.

I pull Teddy back over to a more comfortable place, with his cousins and siblings.

But with the mind that I have I start to wonder if this really is the more comfortable place after all. I finally get to catch up with Seth. He is perhaps the most bubbley of the four siblings. He barely stops moving, fidgeting the whole time. Maybe it's jetlag but he won't sit still for long than ten seconds. He's looking for something to do, people to talk to. He was always an adventurer though, since he was a young boy. Always wanted to be outside rather than indoors. And even when he was indoors he was always playing games with Teddy that required a lot of imagination.

We share a long hug and I realise I missed him.

"Don't worry, Sophie," he whispers to me. "We've all got you. Just like you always had us"

I don't want to start crying now.

But looking around at people I once knew and I can't help it. They are old enough now, old enough to help me and do _something._ There is an understanding in them now, an innocence lost. I didn't see it go, and I will never see it again.

"Excuse me," I say. I rush up the stairs and head down the side of the house, I think Teddy made a move to follow me but someone stopped him.

There's a bench further towards the front of the house and I go to sit on it, leaning forward trying to breathe deeply. And I let a few tears escape. Just a few tears for each year that has been lost to the abyss in my mind.


	21. Icarus

**A/N: **As per usual, thank you so _so _much for all the follows and favourites. I love you all. Shout-out to rapunzelclayre who's been leaving so many reviews. Thanks to the guest who commented about the pacing of this story. You're review is much appreciated and I actually totally understand where you're coming from. I also understand reading several chapters with characters having long repetitive conversations is tedious, even for me writing them. I do realise this is turning into a bit of a slow-burn fic (which I might add to the description).

I would actually _love _to skip to the action-ey bits. However, I really do have just a bit more of the heart-to-heart emotional bits. Just because I feel that I need it for Sophie's character arc (a very turbulent arc, yet still). But following my plan the story is really picking up, and there's some action-ey developments that I'm working on now. So that's coming _very _soon. And I'll have a look at the plan for the rest of the story too, baring in mind your advice.

For everyone else as well, even though I have mapped out the rest of the story in regards to plot, I would love to here any advice you have, as it does really help me become a better writer.

Anyways, here's a new chapter, hope you enjoy. Next one is coming tomorrow or the day after ;) xxx

* * *

**Sophie**

"There you are."

I turn to see Ana walking towards me. I dry my cheeks. She's wearing a blue dress that hugs her curves. She sits down beside me, hands me a handkerchief from her purse and pats my back.

"Just overwhelmed a bit is all," I say, because I know she'll ask. "Those kids were my brothers and sisters - they were my _friends_. And they grew up. They're not kids anymore. A lot of them are in or going to college. They have girlfriends and boyfriends. And they can do things by themselves. And I missed it all."

"You didn't miss it, you were there for them. They're _still_ your brothers and sisters."

"It's like I woke up one morning and ten years happened while I slept."

"Similar to being a parent," she says. "I know it's not the same. But it, too, is …"

"Overwhelming," I finish.

"I understand. It's easy to become overwhelmed in this family. When I was first dating Christian I was overwhelmed by many things about this life, and _often_."

She looks like she's thinking of something far away.

"Flying too close to the sun," she mutters to herself. Then to me: "I had to take moments to myself. It's a difficult family - we attract a lot of crap, more than the average family. But we attract more good than bad. And this family is big and wonderful. You already know that. It's how we Grey women get through things: by taking moments to yourself every now and then."

"I'm not a Grey woman."

"Maybe you will chose not to be. But you were before the crash. Married to my son or not you're a part of this family. And tonight... It's in the way you hold yourself, you _are _a Grey woman. We're similar in some ways. We both love Grey men. Teddy is much like his father after all."

I want to disagree, but I don't think I know anything about the matter anymore.

"You _do _love him," it's not a question.

"I think most people think that when you love someone love is love. But it's not always that simple. There are different types of love, different _ways. _And when they cross, they are either strengthened or complicated. Mine is oh so clearly complicated. And I... I've always loved Teddy. I'm just not _in_ _love_ with him in that romantic sort of way."

"Familial love?"

"Not quite. It was always different with Teddy than the others. I wasn't always around when he was a kid. Even with Phoebe and Ava is was a bit different. I didn't live with my dad until I was thirteen and that was about the time Seth was born. Maybe it's because Phoebe and Ava are girls that I bonded easily as sisters with them. It's not that I favoured him in any way, it was just always _different_ with Teddy. There was a time when it was just me and him, maybe he was too young to remember but I do."

I laugh at the irony of that.

"He would make me play games with him. And it would be like it was only us in the room. And when he was two years old, he called me 'girlfriend'. You had to explain why he had to ask permission first."

"Oh yes," she smiles. "Then he said 'well if that's how it is everyone should ask for everything'. So he would demand that you ask him for permission, even to go to school."

We both laugh at the memory.

"I think he was under the impression you were there just for him. I remember the tantrums he threw when you left to go back to your mother," Ana laughs. "He was such an old little man."

"He was difficult. I argued with him more than the rest of them," I say. "There _was _something more between me and him."

"I know. I think everyone could tell. It wasn't platonic, as such, but…"

"Unconditional," I say. "Unconditional, like when that child-like faith in your best friend, and you think that there is nothing _nothing _they could do that would make you not love them anymore. It was naive, and _innocent._ I just didn't think it would have turned into a romantic type of love. I mean _real _romance. The girl who Teddy married... I _understand _and see why she loved him, if indeed she _really_ did love him. I just can't get my head around the fact that I am her and Teddy is _Teddy._ Has the unconditional love been tainted now, with this _other _kind of…"

"Nobody sees it like that. The unconditional love is still there, it will always be, that's why it's unconditional. You both have just learnt a _new _way to love. The romantic love is_ new_. There wasn't anything romantic about the relationship you had with Ted as kids"

I nod and contemplate what she's saying about learning new ways. _The other thing_I know for sure; I'm not a paedophile.

"So we're not the same people then? Teddy really isn't the Teddy I knew?"

"He is and he isn't. My mother used to tell me that men are simple creatures. But humans aren't simple to begin with. Teddy has grown. He is different now but his foundation is the boy you knew. He's a Teddy 2.0 in ways. I don't think even I realised how much he had grown until now. I've never seen him so patient, calm and reserved. Maybe that's why you think he's so different. I'm sure he'll go back to being his mercurial self eventually, whether slowly or all at once I don't know. But it'll all become clear to you in the end."

I breathe deeply, and wipe my eyes some more.

"Your handkerchief?"

She smiles warmly at me.

"Keep it, Sophie, with my best wishes."

"Thank you."

"I wanted to say another thing," she says. "I probably should have told you earlier. It's about Jack"

"Oh"

"I overheard you talking with Ted and Phoebe the other week. Hope you don't mind too much. But I knew him better than anyone in there." She gestured to back in the house. "And he _was a monster. _Like the kind you hear about in the news that you just pray never come into your lives. You saved me and my children that day. And I cannot thank you enough for it. And there's nothing I can say because what happened with him _changed _you. It interrupted the flow your life was on, and I can't apologise enough."

"It wasn't your fault."

"You were never supposed to be involved, nor any of the kids. It should have been me that day. You were a bystander that just sort of accidentally fell in his way. If you weren't there he would have got to me, and fought me instead. He came into our lives _through_ me. It should have been me."

She sounds a little bit angry, but I'm not sure who at. Jack, herself or some higher being that marks out the paths our lives take.

"But you said it helped that Ted told you where Jack would be if he were alive today," she says.

"Rotting in jail?"

"Yes. He would have spent the rest of his life there. And I'm not saying you gave him the mercy of a quick death over wasting away, or that his life wasn't important. But, after all, what is the value of life without love?"

* * *

Teddy comes out a few moments after Ana goes back inside. I'm just getting up from where I was sitting.

"Did I already tell you that you look beautiful?" he says.

"You did. You don't look so bad yourself," I force a smile for him. He's wearing a black fitted suit, and once again he looks like a male model.

He wraps his arms around me and I rest my head on his chest.

"Your parents are getting worried," he says.

"Better go see them, before Papa comes out here." As we pass back through the house, I say: "This place is amazing."

"Yes, it's beautiful," he says.

Teddy keeps a hand on the small of my back. In the garden Phoebe passes Annie over to me.

"Do I look like I've been crying?" I murmur to Teddy.

"No," he says.

"Ooooo," Annie babbles.

We both look to her and grin. She laughs her beautiful baby laugh. Teddy takes me further down the garden, closer to the bay. There are less people now, some have gone home. We stop in front of the pontoon. The last of the sun light is disappearing now, and makes everything orange hued. He puts his arms around my shoulders, holding both me and Annie, as we look out over the calm water.

I could stand here for the rest of my life, I think.

_Agree with you there, _my subconscious quietly says.

"This place is so peaceful," I say.

"It is," he says.

We stand completely still for a minute, before an involuntary shiver goes down my spine. Teddy lets go of me to shrug off his jacket.

"You'll get cold," I protest.

"I'm never cold when I'm with you," he says.

"Don't be silly," I say. He drapes it around my shoulders, ignoring me.

"Thank you," I sigh, grateful for the warmth.

"That's what I'm here for, Miss Taylor," he smirks.

_To take off his clothes? _

"To give me your jackets?" I raise an eyebrow.

"To take care of my girls," he says.

I can't help smile a little.

"Let's get back, I think Brandon wants to take some family pictures"

He takes Annie, and I'm secretly thankful my arms get a break. I pull his jacket closer around me.

Brandon has ask Jose to help us take plenty of photos for an album. They both are holding big fancy cameras when we reach them. Brandon snaps a picture of us as we walk.

We spend ages arranging and rearranging ourselves for the pictures. First all the women, then all the men. Then Grace, Carrick and their three kids. Then with their grandkids too. Then of Grace and Annie, then of Grace, Ana, me and Annie. Then of Carrick, Mr Grey, Teddy and Annie. Then of Annie with all her grandparents and great-grandparents. Then Kate and Eliot and their kids, Christina and Ana and their kids and Mia and Ethan and their kids. We take out traditional all-kids photo. And on and on it goes.

And I get another moment where I am just a part of the family again, like nothing's really changed except we're older and there's a new addition to the family. For a while, I get to forget.

* * *

I dream I'm sitting in the passenger seat of a car. It's dark here, and outside too. We drive over the motorway. Below is the dark lake, an abyss that we float, smoothly, steadily right over. Ahead of us the city lights shine bright. They are the only lights. Teddy is driving. He's got one hand on the wheel. The other holds mine. It's silent. His eyes are on the road. I look at him. That is all.

But I feel a turning in my soul. He is innocent, and pure, and good. And I love him.

I wake up on a couch. Teddy is sitting beside me, his tie is undone hanging around his neck, and the top button of his shirt undone.

_Absolutely gorgeous. _

"You've only been asleep for 20 minutes, don't panic," he says.

I realise I'm still at Grace and Carrick's house. Teddy stops me from sitting up too quickly.

"No bad dreams?"

"Not this time," I say. "Because you're here."

He smiles.

"Would it be terrible if I went home now?"

"Of course not," he says. "Our parents are ready to leave whenever you are."

"I don't want to rush them."

"It's not a problem. They said they should be getting back anyways."

"Where's Annie?"

"She's with my dad."

He goes to get the others. I sit on the couch for a few minutes, looking around the room. There's a lot of dark wood and exquisite carpets. I run my hand over the rich material of the sofa feeling a bit like a princess.

But my hand stills when I feel the prickling of the hairs on the back of my neck. The exact kind I get when I think they're someone watching me.

I stand and spin around swiftly. There's only darkness outside the large window. I can only see myself reflected there.

But there's no one else.

_Correction: You can't _see _anyone else. _

I glare out the window anyways.

"Sophie?"

I turn to see Isabella standing in the doorway, looking very sleepy.

I snatch up my purse from the table, walk over and take her hand, pulling her away from the room. The feeling is gone. It was probably all in my head.

Grace is seeing us all out. And I give a kiss to Annie who is sound asleep in Teddy's arms.

"Your jacket," I say starting to pull it off me.

"You keep it. It looks good on you. Besides I'm going home too, just waiting for McCarthy to arrive."

"Be safe," I tell him. He frowns a little. "I'll see you tomorrow."

I give him a kiss on the cheek, before following close behind my father, out the door.


	22. Illustrations

**Sophie**

There's an image that's been bugging me all morning. Something I had forgotten about.

"When I remembered what I did," I say.

"Perhaps we should not say it like that," says Dr Flynn.

"How else would we say it?"

I keep scribbling on the page in front of me. I have coloured pencils instead of crayons, and I'm in Dr Flynn's office. But this time I have something I want to draw. So it's not so intimidating.

"What about just 'what happened with Jack' instead of 'what you did'. It's unbiased that way."

"But it _is _what I did to him."

"What you did to him was a reaction to what he did and wanted to do to you."

"What I did to him was worse."

"Some people might not agree."

"I killed him."

The words taste like bitter dirt in my mouth, I have to spit them out.

"Some people think that being raped is worse."

"I wasn't raped."

"You almost were," he says it like a reminder.

I don't say anything. I scribble colours on to the page. Blue at the top. Pink underneath, then yellow and red. Then darker blue again at the bottom.

"Fine. We'll say 'what happened with him'." I sigh.

I take the grey coloured pencil and push it hard into the paper. Lines towards the bottom corner of the page.

"When I remembered what happened with him," I start again. "There was something before. Some warmth before the blow."

I colour the wing of the plane in my drawing.

"I can still remember it quite clearly. It's more the feeling of it than the image though. I can almost hear the low hum of the engine. I was flying home from somewhere, I don't know where. I wasn't alone. I had a friend with me. I don't know who. I don't see them. They're sitting beside me, keeping me safe, but I don't look. I'm looking out the plane window, the sun is rising."

"Does someone speak?"

"Not in what I remember."

"Why do you think this particular moment came back to you?"

"Maybe because it's so peaceful."

I've finished my drawing now. It's not bad. The view from a plane window. Sunrise and the wing.

"I think I might have had a revelation at that moment."

"Why do you think that?" he says.

"I don't really know. I just have a feeling."

I put the drawing down on the table between us.

"This is very good, Sophie. Have you thought about writing down these thoughts and memories down. Maybe stating a journal?"

"Don't think I'd be able to commit to a journal."

_Wow, commitment issues about everything, is it?_

Shush.

"It's just a suggestion. Maybe even just writing a few notes of the back of your drawings. Maybe that would help to keep track of things."

I nod.

"Yeah, I'll try that."

"How's life at home?"

"Its okay"

"What do you do on a normal day?"

"Stay home. Read. Help around the house. Sometimes I help Gail with her work in The Big House. Most days Teddy comes over with Annie and we play together. I like spending time with Isabella too, if she's not too busy. Seth's home for two weeks so we've been talking quite a bit. Papa makes me draw sometimes, nothing interesting just images. But I think Teddy gets agitated if I don't spend enough time with him."

"Does Ted pressure you to spend time with him?"

I shake my head.

"He doesn't say anything. But I can just tell he feels agitated. Like he's runny out of time. He doesn't want to say anything."

"How do you feel about that?"

"It's fine. I don't mind. I don't know why he feels like he has limited time; nobody's going anywhere. But I like spending time with him anyway. I like..."

"You like what?"

I feel my face heating.

"I like it when he's with me when I take naps."

"No night terrors when he's there."

"Not when he's near me."

Dr Flynn nods.

"He seems to be the only thing that works for that."

Dr Flynn already explained that I've had the same recurring nightmare for years. It seems I don't have them only when Teddy is with me.

"And your mood swings are still there?"

"Yes. But they're not extreme. I don't get so angry anymore. Still crying lots though."

"That's alright. How would you describe your stress levels?"

"Overwhelming. That's why I cry so much."

"Did you enjoy the party?"

I nod and smile. Then let it fall from my face.

"Well mostly," I say

"What did you like?"

"Seeing all my friends again. Taking pictures. The lights and music, and the feeling. And their house."

"What didn't you like?"

"I was getting paranoid."

"About what?"

"People talking about me. And that I was being watched."

"Your personal security was watching you."

"Yes. But I mean, the person who's out to get me."

"Fear is perfectly reasonable"

"I don't fear him. I just don't like being watched"

"You don't fear the person who did this to you?"

"No. I'm frustrated and impatient. But not fearful. I just seem to have a certain detachment to fearing it."

"Detachment because this doesn't feel like you're life?"

"Yes. And because even though I live the impacts of the crash, I don't remember the crash. And the letter was found by Teddy not me. I wasn't even there at the time"

"What do you think would make you connect with the case?"

"Maybe if I knew exactly who it was"

"But you don't have any suspicions yourself?"

I shake my head.

He keeps scrawling away in his notebook.

"How are you and Annie?"

"We're getting along fine. There's not much of a change from before"

"And besides the nightmares, are you getting enough sleep?"

I purse my lips.

"Do you take naps everyday?"

"Not everyday"

"How many hours at night?"

"Seven maybe, six sometimes."

"You need to be sleeping more than that. You need to let your mind rest. Lack of sleep causes all sorts of complications."

"I don't like to going to sleep"

"Are you afraid of the nightmares?"

I don't say anything.

"Fear is nothing to be ashamed of" he says.

Yes it is.

I can't help but drift back to the nightmare. Such pure rage. Why? Because of the things we represented.

"Do you dream of other things when you're with Ted?"

"Sometimes."

"What are they like?"

"They're nice things. Kind of random. Like driving with him at night. Or one time I dreamt I was at a fancy yacht party, with Pen, I think."

"Could these be memories coming back to you?"

"Maybe. They're quite nice so I can never tell."

"Have you thought of asking Ted about them? Maybe he knows."

"I thought about it but some of them are so vague I don't think he'd know for sure. I guess I could ask around for the ones that aren't so vague."

"Try that," he nods. "And try writing things down - it doesn't have to be a journal, just notes - even just words - and keep them together in a folder. I'm glad about the progress we're making."

He smiles kindly at me. He sets his silver pen down.

"And I'm happy with the progress you're making. I think if you so desire you could stay with Ted and Anouk again."


	23. Firsts

**_A/N: _****Songs mentioned in this chapter are 'Book of Love' by Magnetic Fields. And quoted are the lyrics to Elvis Presley's 'Can't Help Falling In Love', written by Hugo Peretti, Luigi Creatore and George David Weiss. You can listen to them whilst reading this chapter if you so desire. Hope you enjoy ;)**

* * *

**Sophie**

I moved back a few days after Dr Flynn said I could. We all wanted to make sure for definite that I'd be able to handle it. I think a part a Papa secretly wanted to keep me with him. And I think a part of me wanted to stay.

But we both knew that moving back with Teddy was the best thing for me. Teddy and I went for breakfast at a café near Tower 801 one morning to talk about it. I thought of it as our second date. I gave him a list of things I thought would help the situation.

_**1\. You act as you did before the accident, which means you have to let me do some of the housework and childcare. **_

_**2\. You show/tell me about things I ask about, upon request. Don't hold back details for the sake of being cushy. **_

_**3\. You don't keep secrets from me. **_

_**4\. We get plenty of alone time, with Annie also. **_

_**5\. You must sleep in the same bed as me. **_

I watched him read the list. He must have read it twice, thrice, four times. I feel like I've been too forward with number five, but I have to keep reminding myself that one of the reasons Flynn said I could move back is for my sleep, and I only get good sleep when Teddy is with me. I watch his blue eyes, behind his glasses scan the letter over and over. I watched his thumb run across his bottom lip, back and forth, back and forth.

_So. Fucking. Hot. _

Can you not, please?

_Can't help it. _

What's he thinking so much about?

_Maybe he's not actually reading it, but daydreaming of sexy things. _

What the fuck are on?

"I have one problem with number two. That runs on to number three," he said finally.

My hands were gently holding my coffee cup. I wasn't really expecting negotiation but I guess I'd listen.

"There's only one thing left that we're not ready to discuss."

"_Another thing?"_

"Minor thing. Not a _problem _as such. Nothing to worry about. Just a… _thing." _

I frowned at him for a minute.

What to do, what to do.

_You can only trust him. _

"One last thing?"

"One last thing."

I took the paper back and pulled a pen from the inside pocket of my jacket. And added an item to the list.

"Is there a particular reason why you're wearing a suit?" he said.

"No," I lie.

"Are you sure? This feels very official."

"Well, we might be living together for a very long time. I think it's kind of important."

_Forever maybe?_

Let's not get ahead of ourselves.

_**6\. At the first opportunity, you must show/tell me about the "one last thing". **_

I handed it back over to him.

He nodded.

"Please sign on the dotted line," I said.

He blinks, I don't think he noticed it before.

"Why so serious?" he asked.

"Because a long time ago you made me sign a contract, which has led me here," I smirked.

He rolled his eyes at me.

I don't think I like it when he rolls his eyes at me. Not at all actually.

But he signed on the line.

* * *

I suspect that the "one last thing" has something to do with the heavy duty toolbox in the hallway cupboard. It's the only obvious thing that I don't know about. I asked Teddy about it again, but he dismissed it as more tools.

The first morning I was back at the apartment, Teddy was preparing breakfast in the kitchen. Annie was snoring softly in her crib. I tried to open it. The technology looks complicated and I don't know it. There's a screen on the top of it. That's all. At the lightest touch of my finger the screen turns on to a light blue colour. There's a keyboard and ask for a code.

I tried my birthday. Then Teddy's birthday, then Annie's birthday. My last guess was Papa's birthday before the box threatened to set off an alarm and lock for 48 hours, if I got the next one wrong.

I left it alone after that.

On the second day back I went with Cooper to the downstairs gym. I walked on the treadmill for half an hour, all the while pestering him about, what I've started referring to as The Dreaded List. I convinced him that no harm can come from some names now. I almost convinced myself of that too, until I was given them.

Michael Davies

Thomas Dylan

Justin Terrance

Alex Hunter

Alastair Francis Bush

Christopher Knight

Orlando Scott

Charles Fredenham

James McGowan

Andy Klein Jr.

Benjamin Garner

It is a long list.

I remember when Pen told me about Michael, I was about 24 when I was with him. And 29 when Teddy came to me. That's only five years, and a very, very, _very _long list.

But ghosts are all they are. Ghosts that I don't remember, ghosts that are no longer affecting my life. So I chose not to think of them.

* * *

It's the third day back and Teddy's 23rd birthday. I asked Cooper to pick up Ted's present yesterday. I gave it to him this morning. A vinyl turntable, and three records.

"Thank you," he said with a large smile.

It's small so it fits on the table beside the balcony windows.

"Are you sure you don't want to do anything?" I ask, as I unload the last of the dishes from the dishwasher.

I wanted to take him out, for a meal at least. But he insisted he doesn't want to do anything special. His phone has been going off like crazy.

"I'm sure," he says. He goes to make us tea.

"But, it's your birthday."

"I don't like celebrating myself much."

"Okay," I sigh.

"Brandon sent some of the photos from grandma's birthday party," he says. I take Annie from her crib in the bedroom where I left her for a while, and put her on her mat in the living room. I've been reading through a book on baby development, and I've been helping to get her rolling over. She can roll from her back onto her stomach, but struggles the other way around.

Teddy hands me some photos from the printer on the desk. He disappears into the hallway while I flip through them. They're quite lovely. A few of them, I realise, are stolen shots.

There's one of me hugging Daisy and Pippa. And Teddy and I sitting with Annie having dinner, me resting against his shoulder which I don't remember doing intentionally. There's one of us talking with one of Grace's friends from the hospital. There's one of us just walking, arm in arm. There's one that I simply love. The three of us, backs to the camera, looking out across the water, the sky is dark blue and the last of the sunlight disappearing.

Teddy comes back with a book in hand – a photo album. It's blue with '2035' written neatly on the front.

Teddy slides the photos into empty pages.

"Wait," I stop him on the last one. "Can we frame that one?"

"Of course," he smiles.

He puts the photo safely in the desk drawer.

I flip through the album, there's not a lot in it, but it's understandable considering all that's happening, plus we're only halfway through the year. Mostly the pictures are of Annie, sleeping, playing, and sitting with various people.

"Can I see the others?" I ask.

"Yes," he says. He goes to get the plastic boxes from the cupboard.

I start with the year I left university. And go through the years. Not all of these are from Brandon - he would have been too young. I've done a lot of it myself. The years are relatively well documented in pictures. Birthday parties, holidays, vacations, charity events, days out with Penelope, with Phoebe, Teddy, with Papa and Gail.

I'm glad that I can see it all. I'm glad that I can see the sudden replacement in 2027, from the radiant young girl to the skinny woman with dark circles around her eyes who never smiled. I'm glad I can see the slow progression through the years as everyone in the pictures grows. The children grow into young adults, the girl becomes fuller again. Everything grows, bigger, brighter.

And then, there is an increase in pictures of Teddy and I, sooner than I thought there would be - as friends, spending time together. Teddy points out the first picture of us as a couple – I wouldn't have known where there was a change in our relationship otherwise.

Thank you, I say to myself.

_You're welcome_

There's a big white album too. I can take a guess at what it is.

I flip it open to the first page, and sure enough there's a disc labelled 'The Wedding 2034'.

I take the disc out of it plastic sleeve, and hold it up for Teddy.

"Can you put this on?" I ask.

"Are you sure you want to?"

"Yes."

He takes the disc from me and slides it into the side of the TV somehow. It turns on to a white light. The words 'Theodore Raymond Grey and Sophie Taylor's Wedding' ran across the screen. Then 'Saturday 18th August 3034'. When the light clears, Teddy is on the screen. He affixes a small carnation flower buttonhole onto his black tuxedo. 'Book Of Love' plays in the background.

He looks stunningly handsome. His copper hair is swept back and his stubble neatly trimmed. Around him stand two young men I don't know –though one looks somewhat familiar – they fiddle and fix their own suits, one in charcoal grey the other in dove grey. Seth is their too, in slate grey. Clearly, it is a grey themed wedding – why am I not surprised?

Then Teddy and his three groomsmen descend the stairs and I realise they're in The Big House. Phoebe is with them too. Looking absolutely beautiful. Her dress is a steel grey, with a simple accordion pleated skirt, falling down to her ankles, the top part of the dress is embroidered with flowers. Her chestnut hair falls in soft waves around her face and is crowd with fresh pink carnations and tiny baby breath flowers.

"Phoebe was my best man," Teddy explains to me, leaning close. "That's Eric, a good friend from college." He gestures to the groomsman in the charcoal grey suit. "And you remember Nate?"

He points to the man in the dove grey on the screen.

"Nate, from your middle school?" I ask.

"The very same."

Nate and Ted have been friends since they were kids. But I remember him as a scrawny young boy, short, skinny, with braces, glasses and acne.

_Wow, he's pulled a Neville Longbottom!_

He's now tall, well-built, smooth skinned, straight teethed, with a lopsided smile. I'm happy for him, I bet all the girls that laughed at him are kicking themselves now.

The album on my lap is like a follow along book. Brandon was very careful to not include so much of the behind the scenes in the film, but there must have been someone flitting around snapping loads of pictures.

The wedding was in the meadow behind The Big House. There was a white runner rolled out from the house out to a wooden arch covers with white flowers. Either side of the aisle, were wooden foldaway chairs sitting in neat rows. There's at least 200 people there. All dressed in grey or pink. There were white and pink carnations lining the aisle, on the end of each row, and growing in the surrounding meadow area. It's a stunning set.

I stare at the screen, wide eyed, it reminds me of when Teddy filled my hospital room with the flowers. Somehow I just knew in my heart that Teddy had set up the flowers at the wedding, it was a way of him telling me he loved me, that he would give me the world in excess if he could.

Then it starts. The music is familiar song – one of my all-time favourites.

_Wise men say only fools rush in_

Teddy stands at the head of the aisle, I see his chest rising and falling as he breathes deeply. He looks nervous, I think, but he's smiling too.

_Shall I stay? Would it be a sin?_

First Etty and Isabella walk side by side in pink dressings, scattering flowers everywhere. Then Phoebe and Penelope walk arm in arm in their steel grey dresses.

_Like a river flows surely to the sea_

_Darling, so it goes, some things are just meant to be_

The groomsmen and bridesmaids walk arm in arm in pairs. Seth with Daisy. Nate with Pippa. And Eric with Ava.

_Take my hand, take my whole life too._

Then there I am. I was holding tight to Papa's arm. His suit was dark grey, almost black. And it's stark contrast to my white dress. The dress is simple. A long floor length skirt, white converse shoes peak out from underneath every time I take a step. I know I would have picked a dress the waistband on my actual waist, instead of under my bust, if it were not for the small baby bump showing through. The top part of the dress is lace, with a boat-neckline and three-quarter length sleeves. It has a low, v-cut back down to the small if my back, where starts a trail of elegant buttons down to just passed my butt. My hair is rolled up into a messy twist at the bottom of my head, stray pale blonde waves fall around my face. A crown a tiny baby breathe flowers rests upon my head and simple sheer veil is pinned into my hair. One hand clutches my father's sleeve, the other a white bouquet.

_For I can't help falling in love with you. _

The ceremony isn't long, and the vows are traditional.

The party is under a _huge _canopy. The decorations are simple, it's mostly grey and white with pink dotted around in some places. The speeches are longer than the ceremony and are mostly funny and moving at the same time. All the groomsmen make speeches, as well as Brandon. And Pen, who was my maid of honour. My dad makes a speech which I can tell he was uncomfortable about. And even Mr Grey makes on too. All before Teddy stands up.

"I know this is a wedding and not a reward ceremony, but I'd like to thank a few people". The crowd laughs. "Thank you all, for coming and being with us on this very special day – my _wife _and I…" The audience cheers and hoots, Teddy grins. "…. Are eternally grateful. And thanks those who have made this day incredibly special... Thank you to my grandparents, who taught me to never give up on myself. Thank you to my parents, who taught me to never give up on anyone else either. Thank you to Sophie's parents for bringing such a wonderful person into this world. And Sophie, my love, thank you for always being, first and foremost _my best friend. _Your faith in me runs deep, your support is unwavering, and your kindness is unlimited. I am the proudest and happiest man alive to call you my wife. Mother of my child. Best friend. I will love you until the end of time."

The afternoon went on and we had our first dance as the sun was going down. I danced with Papa after, and Mr Grey too, before Teddy caught me up in a spin again. We held on to each other for a while. Even as a heavy summer rain pour fell from the sky soaking the both of us. We stayed on the dance floor, as people all around us run to hide under the canopy.

It was quite a sight, Teddy and I holding on to each other, saying nothing, looking at each other, as sun and rain met in the sky.

"It wasn't supposed to rain," Teddy says beside me. "But the sun still shone through."

He turns to look at me.

"Why are you crying?" he asks.

I hadn't realised that I was. I wipe the tears from my face.

"I don't know," I answer honestly.

For once I'm not crying because of a mood swing, or an emotional overload.

I'm crying because I'm sad, or happy... I can't quite tell. All I know is I'm…

I lean forward, place a hand on the back on his neck, and pull myself towards his body. I close my eyes just before I press my mouth to his. His lips are soft, my bottom lip fits between his. They remain unmoving, but he doesn't push me away. I pull back and open my eyes. His bright blue ones are a widened a little, before he recovers himself.

A second first.

He pulls me back to him, his hands gently hold my face. As he kisses me again. I kiss him back. It's gentle and sweet. I feel like all my worries are floating out of my body and I press closer to him.

_For I can't help_

He smells like sun, and tastes like rain.

_Falling in love with you._


End file.
